Head Girl
by Cate Eliot
Summary: The world knows her as the brave and stoic Transfiguration. Her students know her as their strict, but fair professor. The Dark Lord knows her as the only one he could never break. Her friends know her as a spitfire, a renaissance woman, a fighter. Some simply know her as Minerva. Part One of the "Eyes of the Tempest" series: 1953-1954, Minerva's Seventh Year.
1. Prelude: The Hatstall

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. This is NOT connected or related to my other story with Minerva, "Nurmengard Chains". I had previous titled the first part of the Eyes of the Tempest series under "The Eyes of the Tempest", but I've decided to post each part separately under its own title. I'm been working on updating the entire story, adding new plot twists and side arches to develop a more complex story that I can continue on through Minerva's life. I really appreciate all feedback, good or bad. Please review!**

_September 1, 1947_

When her name was called, Minerva McGonagall elegantly moved through the crowd around her with a grace rarely seen at eleven years old. She made her way up the stool where the Sorting Hat was waiting. She climbed onto the stool, uncomfortable, but not afraid, of all the attention now resting on her.

The tall auburn haired wizard who had introduced himself as Professor Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster, sat the old worn black pointed hat on her head and it slipped over her eyes, too big for her petite head.

The inside of the hat was black and there was a sudden quietness inside of her head. Her heartbeat sped up when no voice spoke to her, like her new friend from the train, Alastor Moody, had said it would.

It seemed like ages before the hat actually finished rummaging inside her mind.

_Your brilliance is a startling rarity, Miss McGonagall, I have seen nothing like it which is an unsettling thought for a hat as old as I. The better question, I believe, is just what I'm going to do with you. You are guarded and I'm finding it troublesome, girl, you need to relax your mind. _

Minerva did not like the idea of an enchanted hat rumbling around her mind, but did her best to comply with its wishes. She exhaled slowly and let her shoulder's relax.

_Here we go, much better, there's a cleverness, oh my yes, and a thirst for knowledge and learning. And a memory that mirrors my own! You'll be an excellent pupil. Ravenclaw may be your home … yet what I there is something else. What am I to do with you? Your temperament eliminates Hufflepuff definitely; too much fire to be contained so easily. _

The minutes ticked by and the student body around her began to become restless. "What's taking so long?" they whispered and Professor Dumbledore exchanged a confused look with Headmaster Armando Dippet.

_I'm looking deeper now. Curious, your desire to stay in the shadows despite your raw power that seemingly pulses out of you. But, no you're riddled with restraint. Slytherin could push you on your way to greatness. Every soul has a shadow. You're a tricky one … there is a passion that nearly unhinges your very soul. _

_I see it now. You're powerful beyond belief, girl, make no mistake. Perhaps you will do well…_

The hat fell abruptly silent. Minerva panicked slightly, wondering what had caused the hat to stop speaking. _Had she broken it?_

She was unaware, but around her the entire hall was in a state of angst. Headmaster Dippet was leaning forward, watching the unmoving girl and hat, as the other professors were doing as well.

For nearly five minutes, the girl and hat hadn't moved a muscle. No house was shouted. This was the second hatstall in Hogwarts history.

"Has something gone wrong?"

"Is she a Squib?"

"Something's happened…"

Only Professor Dumbledore seemed peacefully, carefully watching the young pale, raven haired girl with a gentle smile and twinkling eyes.

The seconds seemed to turn into minutes until the hat spoken again. There was something different this time, Minerva noted, something almost urgent and terrifying about its tone.

_Listen true, girl, for these words are meant to help you. Your destiny was chosen directly from the hands of Fate itself. The tragedy in your heart is countered by outward beauty of your love. There is a great bravery beneath the power at your core and courage that beats within your veins. Never doubt the song of your soul, for his love to yours lies in the heart of the lion's den. _

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Minerva blinked in surprise at the strange message, but smiled, and slid down off the stool. The Gryffindor table was cheering loudly, most standing up on their seats for having claimed the hatstall.

"Congratulations, my dear."

She turned to look up at the smiling face of the Professor Albus Dumbledore. His blue eyes twinkled as he met her brilliant green ones.

"And welcome to Gryffindor."


	2. Chapter I: Knowledge Beyond Her Years

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. This is NOT connected or related to my other story with Minerva, "Nurmengard Chains". I had previous titled the first part of the Eyes of the Tempest series under "The Eyes of the Tempest", but I've decided to post each part separately under its own title. I'm been working on updating the entire story, adding new plot twists and side arches to develop a more complex story that I can continue on through Minerva's life. Now we begin the plot. I really appreciate all feedback, good or bad. Please review!**

Knowledge Beyond Her Years

Start of September 1944

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

The Hogwarts Express hummed as it cut through green hills of Scotland, rapidly zinging at a speed no one seemed to notice. The compartments running down the train were alight with energy and conversation, all surrounding the start of the school year.

In a compartment near the back of the train, the conversation wasn't centered around the newest Nimbus or what new pet they had acquired over the summer months, but a much more serious topic.

"They say she's only ever taught primary Wizarding school in the States. Can you believe Hogwarts would hire her? What if she ends up being completely awful and we all fail our exams?" Arabella Figg declared dramatically, leaning against the cool train window.

She was an average looking witch with unadorned brown eyes and lanky blonde hair that was tied away from her face. She wore a Gryffindor crest on her robes and two mismatched socks under her boots.

"I doubt we're going to fail the Defense N.E.W.T, Arabella. There is only a certain amount of failure Dippet will allow and all of us failing would be a sign that she's obviously incompetent," the young man with the crown of dark hair said from the side of car.

His eyes hadn't come up from the Prophet in his lap. He wore his Hogwarts robes with a bright shiny Head Boy badge opposite his Slytherin crest. He had a pale white complexion with an olive undertone to his skin and his eyes were dark and piercing, though normally cool and relaxed.

"Easy for you to say, T, you and Minerva have job options banging on your door. The rest of us lot have to actually work at these N.E.W.T. classes," Arabella said indignantly, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her pony tail away from her face.

"Don't be daft, Ari, I've heard she's a complete hard ass and that she hates kids. A complete kill joy. Word on the street is totally hot though."

Ryan Garret had his feet propped up in the leather seats in front of him, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. "Where's our new Head Girl? I expected her to be here by now?"

"You don't know she got the badge, Ari," Alastor Moody interrupted. "For all you know Cho from Ravenclaw got it. You know how chummy she and Brookes are."

Arabella snorted unceremoniously. "Please, if Tom got it, then Minerva got it. Who else has a better record than Minerva McGonagall? She's practically a professor now herself."

Just as she finished, the doors to the car opened and the small, petite figure of Minerva McGonagall entered.

Though small, almost five two and weighing in at less than one hundred pounds, Minerva commanded the heavy sword of attention and power with ease. With waist length curly dark hair and her pale, Celtic skin, she looked like an untouched china doll sitting on a shelf. Her face was flawless and accented by her bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds from afar.

A bright silver badge reading Head Girl glittered on her robes.

"Hey, Min baby," Alastor Moody said casually, pushing away his Defense Against the Dark Arts book (N.E.W.T. GUIDE TO DEFENDING YOURSELF AGAINST THE DARK FORCES OF OUR WORLD) and leaning forward in his chair.

He had freakishly attentive blue eyes and a tanned skin. His hair was longer and wavy, reflecting the light with bronze strands. He was tall and broad shouldered. His large muscles rippled underneath his shirt.

"Hello everyone," she greeted, dropping into the seat next to Tom, who kissed her cheek gently in greeting. "How was everyone's summers?"

The chatter of summer adventures carried on through the afternoon. "How was Ireland, Min?" Arabella asked, chewing contently on a chocolate frog. "What'd you study? What was the weather? My cousin said it was always, always raining when she went. But you know how she is about these things."

The blonde witch ran out a breath and Minerva stopped her next sentence, cutting in with, "It was good, I studied the advanced Egyptian code breaking referring to the transfiguration studies in the court systems. It was quite interesting. I haven't quite adjusted to the time change, I'm afraid," she said, stifling a yawn.

"You're mental you know, you and Tom, don't you have something better to do than study doctorate level material and lower the rest of our self-esteem?" Ari snapped playfully.

Riddle looked up from his newspaper to smirk at the blonde and catch Minerva's eye.

Tom was cold and handsome in the same way Minerva was icy and beautiful. Both were the best students Hogwarts had seen in a long time, easily conversing with Professor, scholars, and other students alike. This is why they got along as well as they did, Tom had decidedly told himself.

"McGonagall? Professor Rose was looking for you in the first car, something about Head Boy and Girl speeches," Edward Potter, a sixth year Gryffindor said, sticking his shaggy head into the car.

Minerva sighed and gracefully moved to her feet. "Duty calls. See you all in a bit," she said as a goodbye before floating through the door.

"She's going to kill herself one of these days," Riddle said casually looking up at his friends, folding the newspaper and dropping it into Minerva's now vacated seat.

Ryan hummed in agreement, but seemed cool and unconcerned.

Little bothered Ryan Garrett. He was a slightly above average students, but was more worried about his hair, a long and bronze affair that had to be properly flicked to the side every four minutes, and his Quidditch PR as Beater on the Slytherin House team. He had been vying for a professional offer before graduation. He was tall, towering over six feet tall and had large bulging muscles.

"Yep, hopefully not before this year start because I'm seriously screwed with this summer work," Moody said, rewarding himself with a few chuckles. "What do you think she's going to do when we graduate and she has no essays to write and no more tests to prepare for?"

There was a short paused before the reply.

"Save the world!"

Everyone in the car had spoken at once in a general consensus. There was another brief silence before they all burst out laughing, trying to take the seriousness out of their words.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Armando Dippet cleared his throat as he stood at the podium, in front of the long teacher's table, looking down at the four large House tables.

"Good evening and welcome back to Hogwarts. First years, we welcome you to our school and our family." There was a splattering of clapping at this. "First things first, before we digest a wonderful meal, there are some announcements to make. As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students and staff a like. A list of items prohibited in the corridors is posted on Mister Pringle's office door for those interesting. As always, we are promoting a spirit of cooperation and respect among these halls. It is now my pleasure to introduce your Head Boy and Girl for this year. Miss Minerva McGonagall of Gryffindor House and Mister Tom Riddle of Slytherin House."

There was an uproar of applause, from both the teachers and students as Minerva and Tom climbed up the stairs to stand beyond the podium.

"Are you ready for this Head Boy?" Minerva breathed. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him smirk captivatingly.

"Always."

When the sea of black hats quieted, Tom spoke.

"Good evening everyone. Contrary, to speeches in the past, Minerva and I have decided to make our Head speeches together," he said charmingly, turning slightly to smile at Minerva.

"In the spirit of inter-House peace, we thought it would be best to speak with you, not as a Gryffindor Head Girl and a Slytherin Head Boy, but as the Head Girl and Boy of Hogwarts," Minerva continued smoothly.

Her eyes scanned over the four tables, finding her first year brother, blonde headed Malcolm waving at her from the Ravenclaw table, her friends at the Gryffindor table, smiling widely, and the shadows of the other tables watching them.

Tom's shoulder brushed up against her, warm and familiar.

"With both a Muggle war and Wizarding violence threatening our families and communities, it's more important than ever to remain loyal and supporting of each other in our time of need. We just wanted to be sure that everyone knows that we're here for you, whether First Year or Seventh Year for any problems or concerns. This year will be full of ups and downs, but with the strengths of all our Houses combined, we will be able to triumph and keep Hogwarts legacy alive."

Tom smiled and Minerva was sure that some of the Hufflepuff girl fainted in the corner. All four of the House, even Slytherin, clapped and hooted loudly as Minerva and Tom descended the stairs.

"And now, let us feast," Dippet said and with a wave of his hand the tables were filled with every sort of meal imaginable.

As Minerva retook her seat next to Arabella, she was greeted with several pats on the backs and hellos, but as she gazed up to teacher's table, her eye was immediately drawn to the auburn hair professors. His blue eyes twinkled radiantly and he silently raised up his goblet towards her and inclined his head.

Minerva smiled brightly and realized just how happy she was to be home.


	3. Chapter II: The Musing of Naye

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. This is NOT connected or related to my other story with Minerva, "Nurmengard Chains". I'm been working on updating the entire story, adding new plot twists and side arches to develop a more complex story that I can continue on through Minerva's life. I'm much happier with this new version. I've really worked on showing and not telling. I will post the new chapter after five reviews. I really appreciate all feedback. **If you haven't read the updated chapter one, I added a new scene and then moved the last scene into this chapter.****

_The Musing of Naye_

_October, 1953_

Minerva smiled quietly as the rest of her first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students exited Dumbledore's classroom. Sighing she conjured a chair from the air around her and dropped into it.

She had N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes before dinner, but the idea of more homework and another class made her dizzy. Without realizing she had decided that she wasn't going to class, she relaxed back into the chair.

The first month of classes had been exhausting.

Dumbledore's room was always an interesting combination of elegance and nonsense. The room was decorated with crimson drapes and all sorts of little silver instruments around the shelves and walls. No one knew what they were for, not even Minerva herself.

She reasoned that there were things she didn't want to know, thinking it would take away from the magic that was Albus Dumbledore. Reminding herself that she could not fall asleep, she rummaged around Dumbledore's desk, looking for the second years' essays and set to grading them.

She was sure she only shut her eyes for a few moments, giving them a rest from the small quill marks, but she felt a calloused hand on her arm. She shot out of the chair with her wand in hand, left aloft ready to curse her opponent at a moment's notice.

Instead of an attacker, she found Dumbledore leaning on one of his desks, watching her with an amused smile. "I come in peace," he teased with a smile and Minerva exhaled with a little giggle.

"I almost hexed you," she said, her Scottish accent a little more pronounced than normal, indicating that she was clearly caught off guard and slightly embarrassed.

Minerva had always had a particular shine for Transfiguration, much to the excitement of her Head of House and Transfiguration Professor Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't often, she quickly learned, that a young student was so gifted at a subject like Transfiguration. This said Dumbledore had always made sure to give her much to keep her brilliant mind busy while the others around her struggled with the simplest of spells. They competed together at the Transfiguration Championship and shortly after that, in secret, Dumbledore asked her to become his apprentice.

In her fifth year, only a year after working together on Master Level Transfiguration, she had been working on a book that Dumbledore had given her when she came across a section about animagi.

That was all it took for her mind to go crazy, keeping her up all night until she realized that the scribbles she had in front of her could possibly be a success way of completing the transformation.

The two worked the rest of the year on perfecting the thesis and right before her O.W.L.S., Minerva had a successful transformation, making her the fifth and only living animagus.

It wasn't long after that that Minerva became Dumbledore's official apprentice. The two spent hours many nights going over advanced spell work and working on her thesis for her animagus paper.

"Keeping my empty classroom company again, Minerva?" he teased with twinkling eyes.

"No, actually I'm skipping out on Ancient Runes," she said with a small smile as she set herself back down in the chair on the side of his large cherry bureau. Dumbledore pursed his lips and stroked his beard, thoughtfully.

"Has anyone ever told you to not let your academics get in the way of your education?"

Minerva looked at him for a moment before cracking a broad smile. "No I don't think anyone's said that to me that before. I'm not sure I even understand what that means."

He smiled and nodded towards the papers that sat neatly on his desk. His lilac robes were plain, but his bright blue eyes and auburn beard commanded the attention on him, not his clothing choice, even if it was rather random and strange.

"Enjoying grading my papers?" She smiled again, knowing Dumbledore didn't care at all that she had graded his papers. It was often Minerva who did most of his test grading while they work on her animagus training and her thesis papers.

"Were my papers ever that boring?" she countered with an eyebrow raised. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Yours? Never. Your classmates, oh always."

Minerva shook her head, amused. "Well, your second year Gryffindors all wrote the same thing just in different handwriting. It got a bit dull after a while, but I suspect all our papers eventually blur together."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Except for my seven N.E.W.T. students; I rather enjoy reading your classes. They actually write something that doesn't quote the textbook word for word."

"We don't have a textbook," Minerva pointed out and Dumbledore just smiled knowingly; eyes sparkling. In that moment, Minerva wondered what it would be like to be a Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Catherine Naye had heard of Minerva McGonagall far before she had come to teach at Hogwarts. Most professors and teachers and scholars alike had heard of the fifteen year old Transfiguration genius who had managed to crack the secret to animagi transformations.

When she had arrived at Hogwarts, she quickly found that Minerva was not as she had expected her to be. This girl was no hunched over nerd with thick glasses only focusing on schoolwork and nothing else. No Minerva had been far from what she expected.

Minerva was beautiful with a creamy white Celtic complexion and the most intricate eyes she had ever seen. Her long dark hair was always masterfully twisted away from her face and she wore her day clothes classy and stunning. She simply commanded attention with her power and grace. Everything was effortless to Minerva.

The Head Girl was a Quidditch star, the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup every year since she joined the team as a second year. Since then, they hadn't lost a game when she was playing. This year, she was also captain of the Gryffindors Quidditch Team after their previous captain Hendy Woodson graduated and went on to playing for the Cudley Cannons.

This being said, Naye didn't understand why Minerva McGonagall would have ever batted a second eyelash at Ryan Garrett. The boy was good looking, but a slightly above average student with no strong magical powers. In comparison with Minerva's powerful and wild magic, Ryan's looked like child's play.

He was a fair enough Quidditch player (Beater), but he was a player, which everyone was aware of, first years and seventh years alike. Not that many of her colleague would mention it, but they were all a little wary of Ryan Garrett.

Naye watched from the end of corridors as a small crowd of older students crowded around Minerva and her friends as classes for the day ended.

The entire kitchen staff of house elves marching around in an army format, wielding cleavers, spoons, and wearing pots and pans on their heads like armor. Above them Peeves was flying shouting "Left, right, left! That's right you tiny little servants march! Left, left, left, right, left!"

And at the head of the makeshift army was Ryan Garrett.

He had a black winter robe over his school uniform with his tie knotted around his head. He was conducting the House Elves with his wand like a conductor.

"And turn, about face!" he called out, grinning.

The students watching were laughing to hard many couldn't stand themselves. Minerva had her face buried in Alastor's shoulder who was leaning on Arabella for support. All three were shaking with laughter. Many students were holding onto the walls for support and pretending to march along with the Elves.

"This is ridiculous!" Naye muttered and moved out into the hallway. The students immediately parted for her like the Red Sea.

"HALT!"

The House Elves gave a shout and started running towards her, wielding the kitchen utensils and Naye was about to put them all at bay with her wand, when Peeves shouted, "STOP, SLAVES, STOP!"

"Out, out all of you. Get back to the kitchen at once. Peeves, if I even think I see you around this hall, I will personally be speaking with the Headmaster." The poltergeist muttered rudely under his breath as he flew away. "Garrett," she said in a scary calm voice. "Everything you do annoys me."

When Garrett noticed Naye's stern face he put on an innocent smile. "Hi Professor Naye," he said. "Good joke, huh?"

The joking mood was calm and the students quickly began to disperse, knowing the wrath of their teacher. "Sorry Professor," Ryan said, throwing his robes over his shoulder.

"Get dressed. Ten points from Slytherin. You have no idea that kind of power you have over creatures that make them lesser than you. You have no respect for them. If you ever pull a prank like this again, it will be more. You're not as funny as you think Mister Garrett."

She turned on her heels and promptly walked away without further word. Before she disappeared around the corner, she heard the end of their next conversation.

"When do you think her last date was?" Tom Riddle's voice rang out at the now almost empty hall.

There was a snort was she assumed was probably Alastor Moody's.

"Try never."

"What a waste though, I mean, she's beautiful. If she wasn't such a bitch, I'd sleep with her in a heartbeat." Ryan's voice held no joking manner or sarcasm. It was just simply honestly serious.

"I thought you hate her." That was definitely Moody's voice.

"I do!"

She shook her head, angrily. Garrett probably didn't realize that wasn't the best thing to say in front of his girlfriend.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"Ah, Professor Naye, we were going to send a search party out for you, Madame," Headmaster Dippet said with a smile. The Headmaster was tall, but was beginning to get thinner and thinner and had a feebler look nowadays.

His thick brown beard had shrunken and underneath his tall, slightly lopsided ruffled green hat. "I apologize. I had to break up a prank and put a certain individual back in his place."

There was a brief silence before—"Okay, what did Garrett do this time?" It was the Charms Professor, Jason Rose, who had spoken. The man was only a few younger than Catherine, the youngest staff member.

"This is neither the time nor the place," Catherine said coolly and settled into her normal seat in the staff room.

"This is a staff meeting, where supposed to be talking about stuff that happens at school, so spill." Naye glared at Dippet for a moment and Dippet glared back.

"I see you've been developing a steely glare, Professor Dippet," Naye said, blinking and leaning back in her seat.

"I've been observing the master," he bantered back. Several of the staff members chuckled behind their hands, one being Albus Dumbledore.

Naye rolled her gray eyes and gave a brief outline of Riddle and Garrett's prank. Several of the teachers chuckled again and she was still not amused. "It's harmless fun, Catherine."

"Oh yes, very harmless, _Dumbledore_, until someone gets hurt," she snapped harshly. There was a moment more of laughter until Dippet smoothed into the rest of notices and updates for the week. Naye remained quiet and got up with the other teachers. Their meetings were normally short and always happened on Fridays after the last of classes.

She cast her eyes, looking for Dumbledore and caught him moving out into the corridor towards his first floor office. "Albus! Can I have a word please?"

She had always admired Dumbledore, but found his sense of humor incredibly annoying. He had been hired in her sixth year and she had enjoyed his class the one year she took it as she didn't qualify for his N.E.W.T. class. He was an excellent wizard and an even better professor.

"Of course," he said gallantly and they fell in step until the found an empty classroom. Naye shut the door behind her and found that Dumbledore's eyes were watching her carefully. "How can I be of service?"

"How's Minerva McGonagall?"

There was an echo of surprise across Dumbledore's face she noticed, but he pushed through it quickly. "She's well, a bit tired per normal, but well. Why?"

"When was the last time you two spoke?"

"We had class yesterday morning…"

"Outside of class?"

"We went over her final copy right details of her animagus paper last night after classes ended, Professor Naye what's this about?"

Dumbledore didn't like the sudden questioning and strange interest of his favorite and best student. Most professors knew that McGonagall and Dumbledore were close, not at an unprofessional level, of course, Dumbledore was simply not that kind of man, but it was commonly known that Dumbledore was very fond and protective of her.

"It's nothing, has she said anything to you about Ryan Garrett?" Dumbledore blinked and no longer had a calm look on his face.

"No, why has something happened?" There was a thread of panic in his voice that contrasted to his normally calm and carefree demeanor.

"No, no! Everything's been fine, I was just making sure that she … everything was … good," she finished lamely. Dumbledore watched her for a moment longer before speaking, as if trying to read through her words and actions.

"No, she hasn't said anything, but if something was wrong, I do believe she would have mentioned part of it to me. Why are you concerned?" Dumbledore voice had shifted back into a calmer deportment.

"I'm not afraid of students, Professor Dumbledore, but Ryan Garrett scares me." She watched Dumbledore blink once quickly and that was the only thing that indicated his shock at her revelation.

"I'll speak to her, but if something had happened or Minerva thought something was going to, then she would have either spoken to me about it or done something about it herself," Dumbledore said in response.

He folded his hands over one another and was unsure why there was a sudden concern over the pair of them. He wasn't absolutely fond of Mister Ryan Garrett, but knew that whatever relationship Minerva had with him was very casual and hardly at all dangerous. If anything she was merely with him to have something to say to the horde of boys that trailed after her raven hair.

"All right, thank you, Albus," she said and turned towards the door.

"Catherine?"

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "I don't know why you're suddenly anxious, but despite Miss McGonagall's size, Ryan Garrett simply wouldn't stand a chance against her."

"Let's hope there isn't a time where your theory is tested."

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Dumbledore's favorite class was his Monday afternoon's because he only had seven N.E.W.T. students. "Cross-species transfiguration is one of the more difficult feats you will attempt in this class," Dumbledore said, watching his class intently.

"If requires you to focus on several complex intentions all at the same time: at the cellular level, the anatomical level, and then metamorphic level. I think we'll start with something simple. Mister Damocles, if you would help me distribute these beetles, I would be most obliged."

Lyle Damocles was the fourth Ravenclaw in the class along with fellow Ravens Catherine Prince, Autumn West, and Jordan Fletchly. The only other two students, save Minerva, were Tom Riddle and Alastor Moody, both Slytherin.

"I trust you all read the handouts on arthropods, so you have a basic understanding of the parts. I'm going to ask you to attempt to transfigure this beetle into a moth."

The students glanced around at one another doubtfully. "Species and coloration your choice, of course," he said lightly. "Begin." He sat back down in his chair and watched his students carefully, though he knew by the end of the lesson on one student would have managed to do it.

Like normal, she managed to prove him wrong and had accomplished the tasks upon her first try. He watched her intently as Minerva flourished her wand, saying, "_Mutatio Lepidopteram_."

The moment after next she had a medium sized moth sitting in the middle of her desk. It had a nice wing span of about sixth inches.

He rose quietly from his desk to come and inspect it. "Really, my dear, _Thysania Agrippina_?" She smiled slightly, watching the moth flex its wings.

"I thought it was appropriate," she defended his teasing with a smile.

"Indeed it is, but doesn't the White Witch moth come in a slightly larger size?" he asked, though he already knew she had changed the size.

"Yes, but I didn't want to distract the other students," she said slyly.

He chuckled and watched the rest working around her. Riddle had managed a fourth of a transformation, his beetle sprouting wings, but Moody, who was sitting behind Minerva, had his beetle turned upside down and was now poking it with his wand.

"I think you killed it!" Tom declared amusedly.

Minerva's moth was a prime example of why she excelled at Transfiguration. She had not only done the hard task he assigned, but had also altered the size of the moth, doing what most masters and mistresses of Transfiguration would have struggled to do. Minerva always gave such care and detail to every spell she cast. It was partly because he magic was so powerful, but her brilliant and complicated mind made it easier for her to process some many different things at once.

The moth was a metaphor of her perfectly with its elegant wings and white and black markings. It was a royal moth in the hierarchy and though was smaller than most giant moths it was powerful in flight and fight. Minerva's moth had yet to take flight but daintily walked around her desk, observing the room.

She had moved over to her Transfiguration notebook which Dumbledore had encouraged her to keep when writing different papers and quickly outlined the success in her small script handwriting.

When her quill paused, Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to her. "Put that beetle in my hair, Alastor Moody, and I'm going to hex you."

The deadly calm manner in which she had spoken had made Alastor Moody freeze on the stop like a hipogriff caught in broom lights. His hand was right above her head with the beetle dangling from two fingers.

"Damn!" he swore, "how did you see that!" He turned towards Riddle, outraged. "There's no way she could have seen that."

Tom Riddle eyed Minerva and her moth for a moment and shrugged indifferently though there was a flicker of dark jealousy in his dark eyes that Dumbledore had not missed. "She's Minerva being Minerva, Moody, you would think you'd have learned by now…"

The rest of class passed without a hitch and still Minerva was the only one to have successfully completed the transformation. He collected the six beetles and one moth back into the box they had come and dismissed the students five minutes early.

"Minerva?" he called softly and she paused at the doorway.

"Yes?"

He motioned with his head for her to sit back down. The room was now empty and the halls frightening with chaos. "Is everything all right?"

She blinked once and tilted her slightly left, conveying her confusion. "Yes?" she answered obviously confused. "Is everything all right with you?"

He chuckled and nodded simply. "Yes, I dare say everything is all right with me. Is all well with Alastor and Tom and Ryan?"

Minerva being the clever girl she was caught the mention of Ryan's name last. "Albus, this wouldn't have anything to do with Professor Naye, would it?"

He hesitated, but then thought better of denying it, knowing she'd see right through it, and nodded. "You are correct, my dear, as you always are. Why did you suspect her?"

Minerva gave him a small smile. "Because for the last two weeks she's been watching me like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces every time someone brushes up against me and two days ago we were working on our spell work in Defense and she put a hand on my shoulder," Minerva said simply as if that explained life.

"Is that unusual?"

Dumbledore had known many teachers that put an encouraging hand on student's shoulders, even he did it.

"For Professor Naye? Yes. But there's nothing wrong, honestly." He nodded, believing her enough to know she wouldn't lie to him.

Ever.


	4. Chapter III: Red Stone

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Thanks for all the positive feedback, especially from people who read the original story. I really appreciate it! I've really worked on showing and not telling. I will post the new chapter after four reviews. I really appreciate all feedback. **If you haven't read the updated chapter one, I added a new scene and then moved the last scene into chapter two chapter.****

_Immortal Stone_

_October 4, 1953_

Minerva didn't particularly enjoy her birthday. She preferred to keep the affair as quiet as possible. If she had her way they would completely ignore it, but alas, with friends like Arabella Figg who prided herself on being the queen of parties and surprises, it seemed to be the event of the year.

She awoke early as the sun was rising up and set about her room, getting dressed and looking back over her apprentice notes from the previous night. She had been working on a new thesis with Dumbledore, working on the newest ideas from scholars in the Egyptian League.

She had settled in on her leather chair, her favorite spot among her Head Girl suite, and had called for a pot of Scottish tea. The window to her right showed a beautiful view of the mountains around Hogwarts and the Quidditch pitch below.

It was only around six when the first strange thing began to happen. Minerva was well engulfed in her newest notes and ancient text Dumbledore had loaned her for the project, when a sharp knock on the door caught her attention.

She rose from the chair discarding the book and grabbed her wand. Outside was no one. The hall and corridor were completely empty. She frowned and closed the portrait behind her.

"All right, not funny," she called out into the nothing-ness. She raised her wand high and in a striking position. There was a pause of silence before—

"ATTACK!"

Out of seemingly nowhere a dozen or so people emerged. She recognized Tom and Arabella aside Alastor leading the battlements towards her, their faces breaming with laughter, her Gryffindor Quidditch team behind them, and her younger brother and a few of his friends behind them, laughing.

Minerva shook her head amused for a moment. They really should know better by now. She turned and moved down the hall only to cast a lovely useful sliding charm which had her opponents sliding all the after her. Ryan was the first to trip, allowing Augusta Longbottom and Charlus Potter to collide on top of him.

The mock duel continued with a few typical spells until they realized that they had awoken the legendary grump, Ogg, the game keeper.

Ogg was huge, towering of six and a half feet with poor hygiene and an overall air of nastiness.

"Oi! All of you settle down for the god's sake it's too early for trouble making," he growled especially towards Minerva, "aren't you supposed to be keeping these ruffians reigned in, McGonagall?"

"Yes, sir, I will mostly definitely keep a closer eye on them," Minerva said smartly, trying to ignore the snorting behind her.

"Now get out of my sight, all of yeh."

Alastor and Tom grabbed her and they all made a hasty retreat towards Minerva's room. Most of the party wished Minerva a "happy birthday" and rushed off to breakfast and all the remained were Tom, Alastor, Ryan, and Arabella.

"Happy Birthday!" Arabella squealed and Minerva was almost knocked over by the larger girl. She cringed slightly at the joyous shout.

"Shh," she hissed.

"Oh, Minerva, I swear you're the only person who doesn't what to make a big deal of the party! You're seventeen, Min, officially of age!"

"Ah, yes, our baby girl is all grown up," Alastor teased, putting a hand dramatically over his heart with a fake sniffle. Minerva glared and Tom and Ryan laughed behind him.

"So, Minerva, breakfast or presents first?"

"Breakfast," Minerva said quickly and decisively. They all laughed and lounged off towards the Great Hall without further incident.

Tom brushed up against her shoulder and Minerva leaned into the warmth of it. Tom always smelled like warm butterbeer and old books, a comforting smell to her over the years.

Minerva returned her wand to her pocket and turned to look at him expectantly waiting for the question he was undoubtedly going to ask.

"How was your trip?"

Minerva shifted and made a gesture to keep it down. He chuckled to himself but nudged her gently along the way. "Come on now, Minerva, I was just curious."

"You're rather obnoxious you know, Head Boy."

"I learned it from the best, Head Girl."

Minerva smiled at this and conceded. "It was excellent. We ended up going to Venice."

"You went to Venice this weekend with Dumbledore while the rest of us were stuck in seven feet of snow at Three Broomsticks!" Envy was thick in his tone as they came through the large doors.

"Yes, it was a lovely chance to practice my Italian. Jealous, are you?"

"A bit, yes," he snapped playfully. "The perks of being an apprentice to one of the most powerful wizards in the worlds, I suppose."

Tom was one of the few people who had known about Minerva's apprenticeship from the beginning. By her third year Minerva was able to perform N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration spells with ease. But taking on an apprentice was a very rare occurrence, especially with children still in school and even now, women. She and Professor Dumbledore had competed in the Transfiguration Championship in her early Fourth Year, in which she became the youngest Transfiguration Champion in the World at age fourteen. She became his apprentice shortly after that and had been since.

The House Tables were a parting of ways. "We'll meet you after and go back to your rooms, Min, baby," Alastor said and Tom waved her a good bye as they made their way to the Slytherin Table with Ryan.

She and Arabella took their usual seats at the Gryffindor Table. The long dark wooden table was surrounded by every sort of breakfast food imaginable. Toast and butter, pancakes and waffles, an assortment of fruit and drinks, everything one could possibly need.

Minerva took a sip of pumpkin juice from her goblet and listened aimlessly to Arabella's chatter. Augusta Longbottom who had been a roommate of Minerva's until this year contributed to the conversation here and there.

The tall witch was from a well-known pure blood family. She was tall with brown-ish blonde hair that resembled a long haired cat. She had a bright red handbag on her arm, the trademark she was never seen without.

The mail suddenly arrived and with a flourish of feathers and wings, letters and newspapers came fluttering in.

"So any idea what's the party's theme is going to be the Halloween Ball? I suppose we're going to have to set it all up, but after last year's disaster, it can't get much worse, right? Minerva?"

"Hmm?"

Minerva's focus had been on the newspaper that had just been dropped next to her from a large tawny owl. The title of the Daily Prophet read: GRINDELWALD'S FORCES ADVANCE, TAINTED BLOOD BEWARE.

"Minerva, are you listening to me?"

"Yes," she said distractedly, trying to read the first part of the article. Everyone knew they were at war and had been for a while whether or not the Ministry wanted to accept that or not. Muggles and Muggleborns were dropping like flies; disappearing into thin air and then their bodies being dumped for their families to find.

Across the room, Tom got her attention. Turning from his seat with Alastor and the other boys in their year, he held up the newspaper for her to see. She nodded once, sending the message that yes, she had seen it, too.

A sharp nudge from Arabella sent Minerva's infamous temper crackling. "I told you I was listening, Ari!" she snapped, but Arabella was too busy focused on the small bird that had just come from the window.

This was a strange bird indeed.

It was a little bigger than a finch or a robin with silvery feathers and a definite magical scent to him. He had a small package caught in his talons. When Minerva turned towards him, the bird chirped once with a beautiful soft melody and jumped onto her wrist.

"What type of bird it that?" Augusta asked curiously. Minerva shook her head, curls falling up and down. She took the package from the bird and he nestled her hand lovingly. She smiled and stroked his head for a moment.

The feathers were extremely soft, not unlike Professor Dumbledore's bird, Fawkes, the phoenix.

Then the bird's blue sparkling eyes looked at her and the bird exploded in a puff of gray smoke. Arabella yelped, startled, but Minerva recognized the magical flair as the work of Perenelle Delamere Flamel.

Several of the students, mostly first years, closest to her stared with wide eyes and Minerva merely ignored them as she had learned to do a very long time ago, thanks to Alastor and Arabella mostly.

The package was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and made of fine, thin, purple silk. Minerva was almost afraid to open it here at the table for fear of what might be inside. Perenelle would get quite a lot of amusement from sending Minerva something alive, loud, flashing, or quite possibly inappropriate. It was just like her to do something like that. Not to embarrass Minerva in any sense, but to make private and reserved Minerva act a little more like the Minerva that few others knew her as; the "fun Minerva" as Alastor referred to it as.

Minerva had met the Flamels when she became Dumbledore's unofficial apprentice. Nicholas Flamel was Albus' own master in the art back in Dumbledore's youth. The couple was highly powerful and had discovered the secret to immortality through the Sorcerer's stone and the Elixir of Life. Since their first visit which had been rather by accident, Minerva had become a very welcome guest in their house and a beloved part of the family, especially to Perenelle, who simply adored Minerva.

The _Minerva_ on the front letter in Perenelle's calligraphy script only sealed the guess. She untied the silk packaging to find a letter folded in a neat square.

_Our dear Minerva,_

_Joyeux Anniversaire! I still remember the photograph of this little tiny faerie of a child that Albus showed us a photo upon bringing up that he wanted to take an apprentice. Not any apprentice, but a fourteen year old witch with bright green eyes and midnight black curls. I am very honored to have met you all those years ago and I hope to see you soon, my dear! You've grown into a most beautiful, powerful, and intelligent young woman. _

_Nicholas and I hope you enjoy the gift and use it well. We've been waiting to give it to you for some time. Come see us soon and keep an eye on Albus. _

_Avec tout norte amour,_

_P.D.F. and N.F. _

"Who's it from?"

Minerva hesitated. "Friends of Professor Dumbledore," she answered half truthful. She returned her attention to the little leather bag inside the silk wrapping paper. She was truly hoping she wouldn't regret opening it in front of others.

She carefully dumped the contents out on her hand and her heart was touched. It was a necklace. The red stone resembled a ruby. It was no bigger than two of her thumb nails. It shone brightly with the most Gryffindor red she'd ever witnessed. The stone was smooth and cold to the touch, but when Minerva looked deeper inside she was shocked to see what almost looked like smoky figures moving in the light.

She blinked and noticed the beautiful gold plaits that secured the stone to the chain. There were four sets, two on the top and two on the bottom, on the stone, with tiny Celtic swirls in them.

Minerva's hand closed around the necklace and she felt the same sort of peacefulness she felt when around Nicholas and Perenelle. She exhaled slowly and could almost smell the posh lavender perfume that Perenelle always wore.

She smiled and turned back to the silk bag, moving it from sight along with the letter into her school bag. "That's completely gorgeous, Min!" She realized that both Augusta and Arabella were watching her closely. "Very Minerva. Let me see."

Minerva already didn't want to part with the stone, but let it slip through her fingers into Arabella's waiting hand. When the red stone touched her finger, Arabella jumped back, pain echoing on her tanned face.

"Ouch!"

Automatically, Minerva retracted the stone and closed her hand around it. "What happened?"

Arabella nursed the fingers for a moment before answering. "The thing burnt me!" Minerva blinked quickly and turned back to the necklace in her hand. There hadn't been a burning sensation at all in her hands nor had there been an electrical shock.

"Strange, it didn't burn, Minerva," Augusta said with a frown. "Do you think it's cursed?"

Minerva shook her head. She was in tuned to the magic of objects, something Dumbledore had taught her a year or so ago, and there was nothing dark about this necklace. She frowned hard and examined the stone again.

Immediately, her mind began to investigate the strange occurrence. "Oh no, it's the _"I'm a genius" _look again, save the thinking for later, Min, we're going to open gifts, come on let's go."

Minerva was pulled up by her arm and allowed Arabella to drag her along behind as they met up again with Tom, Ryan, and Alastor in the Entrance Hall.

"All right, let's get this over with, yes?"

The others snorted and Minerva's mind kept turning out possible explanations for the burning. She hated this and would have liked nothing more than to sit alone for a few hours to let her thought cultivate and grow because once they started like this there was little one could to stop them.

Back inside her rooms, they all lounged around and watched Minerva open up her presents. She received a set of Muggle novels from her mother and father; The Great Gatsby and Pride and Prejudice. Her youngest brother, Robert Jr, who was five year old, had drawn her a picture of a kitty cat with a collar that read MINNIE in messy letters. (Alastor doubled over in laughter at this.) Ryan had given her a pair of pearl earrings and Arabella had gotten her a multi-picture glass picture frame with changing colors like a Muggle watercolor painting, inside was a photograph of Minerva sitting by the Black Lake, her hair moving around her gracefully, reading a book. On the other end was a photograph of her and Tom holding their Head Boy and Head Girl badges, smiling at the camera. In the middle was a group shot of all of them at the pick-up Quidditch game last year.

Alastor and Tom had combined and gotten her a peacock cloak which was beautiful and sleek. She received a box of Ginger Newts from her younger brother, Malcolm, who was a first year.

She smiled and set back against the fire place. "Last one," Ryan said, handing her a square box with Gryffindor wrapping paper. She pulled the gold ribbon and the red wrapping fell away from the book inside.

Minerva's mouth dropped and her eyes widened. This couldn't be possible. It was too early.

Alastor swore.

Arabella squealed for what seemed like the fourth or fifth time that day and clapped excitedly. "Congratulations, Minerva!"

Tom slid down on the other side of her and ran a finger across the cover. "Bloody hell, Min," he whispered. "This is real."

Inside in Minerva's lap was a book titled "The Theory of Animagi Transformations and a Study of Their Creation". But the part that everyone was staring at was at the bottom of the navy cover where it stated "Written by Minerva M. McGonagall".

She was published now.

_This was real._

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Minerva was ruffling through a bookshelf that stretched all the way around Dumbledore's large office. It was Saturday, three days since her birthday and she was still desperately trying to discover why the stone on her necklace had burnt Arabella.

She and Dumbledore were supposed to meet that morning to discuss their newest subject of disproving one of Gamp's Laws of the Magical World.

Alas, he had left her a note on the desk, which she was lucky to find in his messy organizational skills. There were piles of lesson plans and stacks of essays covering the large desk and part of the floor. The note wasn't sealed. It was short and to the point.

_Minerva, sorry to leave on such a short notice, but Orpington had an eye witness report of G. and I went to investigate. I should be back by Monday's classes. Finish your report on the Laws of Cross Transfiguration and the property of the air around us. If you need any help don't hesitate to Floo over to Nicholas and ask. I hope to see you soon. _

_A_

She had already finished the paper, last night actually, and was searching the library for the answer to her mystery. It was well into the afternoon when anyone came to call. Her notes were written by wand on a large blackboard that was hanging in mid-air near her.

She was up on the ladder, searching for the eighteen forty three version of _Hansard_ a book on all strange powerful magic. She learned from its versions quite frequently. It was types of magic that Minerva was rather suited for, so her mentor said.

There was a hard knock on the door just as Minerva found the dusty copy. It had somehow been wedged between a book on jelly leg counter curses and one of Muggle sweets. She opened her mouth to call to the person to just hold on a moment, but the door opened anyway and Professor Naye barged in.

Fawkes trilled indignantly.

The red phoenix had been sitting in with Minerva as he often did when she was studying alone in the office. He flew up from his perch and swarmed Naye. Minerva jumped down the last few steps. Her heart beat with alarm.

"Fawkes! _ Fawkes_! Where are your manners? Stop that immediately!"

The bird quickly complied and flew away from Catherine and perched itself on the chair behind Minerva looking angrily at Naye.

Minerva only quickly paused before asking, "Professor Naye? Are you all right?"

Professor Naye could be considered pretty when she wasn't so harshly frowning all the time. She was only in her early thirties with a tight bun of strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes had shone ugly sometimes. Her face was blotched with color now and she seemed rather ruffled.

"Yes, I should think so," she said briskly, "I forgot about the bloody bird. It did that last time I came in here."

Fawkes let out a strangled melody that sounded oddly high, like he was protesting the use of the term 'bird'. Minerva forced back a smile.

"You startled him, Professor," Minerva said, defending Fawkes politely. He hissed behind her and folded his head under his wing, effectively ignoring the professor.

"Miss McGonagall, might I ask what you're doing in Professor Dumbledore's office unescorted?" Her momentary lapse in her teacher persona was over and she straightened and folded her arms over one another.

"I'm researching, Professor," she answered smoothly, raising the large dusty book from her hand as if the answer was obvious.

Naye frowned hardly. "Don't you think that's a little inappropriate as Professor Dumbledore isn't even in here?" Her tone had adopted the "first year" voice as if this Minerva wasn't exceedingly bright.

Minerva blinked confused and a little offended. She brushed her hair away from her face and watched Professor Naye for a moment before answering. "No…I _am_ his apprentice, so I'm rather sure it's all appropriate, Professor."

Naye never lost control.

It was common knowledge and she wasn't often wrong or embarrassed, but her cheeks flushed bright red and she stuttered a little upon this revelation. "H-his apprentice," she managed to spit out.

Minerva nodded once, trying to prevent herself from speaking to her Defense Professor as if _she_ was the dimwitted First Year.

Minerva had never particularly liked Catherine Naye. She excelled highly in her class and enjoyed the subject matter. The had always had troubled finding a long term replacement since Minerva's first year for Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Each year they had a new one, a different teacher, a different personality, and a different teaching style.

Minerva didn't enjoy the changing from one teacher to another, but Catherine Naye was one of her least favorites. She thought it was important to give each teacher the respect they deserved and it was hard to do so when that teacher was as unfair and judgmental as Naye was. She gave unnecessary homework, took unnecessary House points, and was unnecessarily strict. Minerva liked structure, but Naye took it to an all-out extreme.

"I was _unaware_ that Professor Dumbledore had an apprentice, though I expect that it would make sense; a man with his skills and magic," she said stiffly.

Minerva smiled cautiously. "Most are unaware," she answered smoothly, trying to ease the awkwardness Naye suddenly felt. "You were looking for Professor Dumbledore?" This seemed to move Professor Naye back into herself.

"Ah, yes, he owes me some long overdue paperwork, but he's obviously not here so I'll just leave you to your…"

Minerva snapped a finger and a folded flew over from the piled on desk and into her hand. She smiled hesitantly and handed it to Professor Naye.

"Professor Dumbledore isn't very organized as I'm sure you've noticed Professor Naye," she said, coolly.

Professor Naye smirked and took the folder with a stiff nod of thanks. "I'm sure that's why he has one exceptionally organized apprentice, Miss McGonagall. Have a pleasant day." And with that she was gone.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

She was rudely shaken from her sleep. She growled in frustration because for her sleeping was a rare luxury. Before the hands could shake her again, her left hand grabbed a hold of her wand and she flew into an upright position, a nasty hex on her tongue.

"Minerva!"

"Alastor! Give me a good reason I shouldn't just hex you now," she snapped, climbing out of bed. He grinned and even in the dark he seemed to be joyous.

"You're on the front cover!"

"Front cover of what?"

Her temper began to be growing shorter and shorter as the moments went on. Alastor, who stood at the foot of her bed in his own black pajamas looking slightly crazed, seemed to notice this and held up the front of the Daily Prophet.

She lit the room with a nonverbal _Lumos_ and tore the paper from his hands. Her heart accelerated when her eyes found the title and photograph of her in her uniform at the train station with a group of friends, smiling, but not at the camera.

"_Seventeen Year Old Transfiguration Genius Moves Up Bestseller List!_" She blinked quickly and moved down to the article.

"'_As of today, the fifteenth of October, Hogwarts Student and Head Girl, Minerva McGonagall has moved up into the Flourish and Blotts Bestseller List with her book on Animagi Transformation. The now seventeen year old McGonagall won the World Transfiguration Championship in her Fourth Year and was only fifteen when she discovered the secrets to animagi transformations…_"

She closed the paper and handed it back to Alastor. He seemed even more rouge in his bed head and mismatched socks. He seemed relatively unabashed while taking in Minerva's sparse nightclothes, a short tee shirt and short flannel shorts. Her hair was messily plaited away from her face.

"You're like famous now!" he said excitedly, "well, more famous than normal I guess, Min, baby. Aren't you excited?"

"No," she said without a trace of sarcasm.

"Why not?"

"I don't appreciate reporters following me around trying to get pictures. Don't you have anything better to do than steal my precious sleep, Moody?"

"Your cold, Min, you know that right?"

She smirked and made a show of getting back in her bed. "Goodnight Alastor," she said, dousing the light in the room.

"Hold up, you want me to sleep in here with you?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. She and Alastor had always been a flirty mix of brother and sister not that either thought of the other romantically. Their little quips were light and neither Arabella nor Ryan seemed to care. Alastor had so many variations of 'Minerva' that she was rare called by her actual name.

"Not with your obnoxious snoring, go bother Arabella."

"Hey now, it was Tom's idea to go camping in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, not mine. And it your fault that you're such a light sleeper and besides no one else complained…well until we were caught, but that's beside the point!"

Minerva brandished her wand and with a resounding thud hit Alastor (if her aim was as good as everyone said) upside the head with a spare pillow.

"Ouch that's not nice you know!"

She made a move to flicker her wand again and smiled into her pillow when she heard him scampering towards the door. "And the Ice Queen is back. Goodnight, Min!"


	5. Chapter IV: The Flamels

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Over 500 views and only 9 reviews. Feed the writer's starving passions and leave your feedback. The more reviews I get, the faster I update. Whether you like it or hated it, please review.**

_The Flamels_

_Late October, 1953_

Minerva dried her hair and combed it out with a thick brush. She was wearing a long sleeved cotton dress that was navy blue and her normal leather boots. She decided to leave her hair down and around her waist as she wasn't planning on doing anything very practical today since it was the weekend. She had discovered rather by accident that the necklace that Perenelle and Nicholas had given her for her birthday had no clasp or rather that the clasp had vanished now that she put it on. It sat on her collarbone, the gold and ruby contrasting with the darkness of the dress and the pale cream of her skin.

Alastor and Tom were waiting for her outside the doors to her room. She frowned and looked at them skeptically.

"What are you lot up to?" she asked looking at each one in turn. They were all out of their uniform as were most students on the weekends.

"Why must you assume we're always up to something, dearest Min?" Alastor was looking strangely happy. He wore a Muggle sports jacket and a pair of scuffed blue jeans, his hair oddly calm. Tom was clean cut and sported a worn leather jacket.

"You seem strangely boisterous," she said coolly, watching him and closing the door behind her. She stepped into the hallway and folded her arms over her chest.

"It's sad when happiness causes paranoia," Tom said sincerely, though he too seemed strangely happy.

"We are at war," Minerva said testily, "in case the rest of you have failed to notice."

"We have nothing to worry about, Alastor's a pure blood and we're both half blood. Grindelwald's only after Muggles and Muggleborns, of which, we are neither."

Minerva glared fiercely at Tom. "So we should just abandon them to their deaths? One in three wizards are Muggleborn, Tom," she hissed.

Tom's face smoothed back out and he forced a calming smile on his face. "You're right, I apologize. I was merely trying to lighten the mood. We're off to Three Broomsticks. Ryan's at some Quidditch final and Arabella went home to visit her sister's baby or something, which means we're going out!" he smiled at her and the intensity in his gaze made her smile softly too.

"I suppose I can spare a few hours," she said teasingly. Both Tom and Alastor offered her an arm and she laughed as they took off down the corridor, arm in arm…in arm.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Minerva laughed as Alastor reenacted his last confrontation with Professor Naye. They were seated in the back of the busy and bustling Three Broomsticks in a booth near a large window, much to Minerva's delight.

"And then she swoops around the end of the desks and goes _'Mister Moody, should I even venture to guess what your latest excuse is?_' You know how her nose kinda flares out like a dragon—well she did that and then I…use my mother's quick thinking…turned around and feigned confusion. The first years were all gathering around, you know how they tend to muddle together and watch, and answered, '_you mean you didn't see it Professor?_' She of course, wasn't amused, but told me no she'd hadn't seen anything and asked me what was going on. And then I was like, '_one of Santa's elves, Professor, he was just here, but I had to break it to him that it was only October and Christmas wasn't for another two months! I think that upset him so he ran off crying and I was trying to find him before he went all crazy on the helpless First Years here…_'"

Minerva giggled and Tom was trying not to choke on his butterbeer. Moody grinned like a wet dog and continued animatedly.

"So I turned around in circles, pretending to look around to the fake elf and all the first years were laughing and carrying on. Professor Naye frowned real hard and said '_I'm not amused, Mister Moody, and I don't believe in elves._' And then I was kinda peeved so I asked her, '_Why? Were you a naughty kid when you were little and got coal in your stocking?_' She didn't like that too much and gave me a detention for cheek and took away ten points!"

Tom was laughing hard now and Minerva's face was flushed from the laughter and Alastor's flamboyant descriptions which seemed all too accurate.

"Tough luck, man," Tom said after he had recovered, "Minerva, are you meeting with Dumbledore tonight?"

"No, he's at the Ministry," Minerva said, taking a sip of her gillywater. "But I'm due at Nicholas and Perenelle's in half an hour."

Tom's thick eyebrows moved up interest. "Ah, on a first name basis with the legendary Flamels, are we now?"

She raised her own eyebrow coyly in response. "Yes, we're rather close you see," she said airily and Tom smirked at her with a roll of his dark eyes.

"The Flamels?" Alastor asked loudly only to be hushed by both Tom and Minerva.

"Yes, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, the Sorcerer's Stone, immortal, ring any bells?" Tom said with an "_are you daft_" tone. Alastor chugged another sip of butterbeer and nodded.

"Yeah, them, I didn't know you knew them, Min," he said, "the perks of being an all-powerful apprentice I think. When did you meet them?"

Minerva paused and drew her wand casting a subtle privacy charm. Tom leaned forward, now, curiosity echoing in his dark eyes.

"You remember that Professor Dumbledore and I left for a few days in our Fourth Year?" Both boys nodded quickly. "Well, he took me to the coast of the Isle of Skye in Scotland for a little test of sorts…"

… _The whip of apparition was taken over by the shock of just where they were standing. They were perched on a small black, jagged rock in the middle of an expansive ocean. The waves were choppy and the air was salty and stung Minerva's cheeks. Somewhere in the distance her green eyes could make out the foggy shape of some sort of island. _

_Dumbledore stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist sharply. Without his arms around her, she would have been swept away by the harsh winds._

_Below her a step or two away would be a painful and fatal drop into the waters below. She quickly turned her face away from the waves and to the water around them. She noticed that the waves were growing taller and thicker. _

_Her hair had been whipped out of its braid and was flecked with tiny water droplets. "Professor we need to move! Those waves are going to kill us both!" _

_She looked up where Dumbledore's face was calm and serene. His auburn hair flew backwards like a Titan. "Yes, Minerva, if those waves hit us we should undoubtedly perish." His tone was so placid that he could have been speaking of the weather. _

_Fourteen year old Minerva McGonagall was afraid. _

"_Are you insane?" she shouted over the winds and waves. _

_He laughed almost delightedly at the frequent question he received. "Maybe I am, but we aren't going to die because you are going to form a barrier." Her eyes widened in shock. "I trust you have heard of the 'claustro' shield?" _

_She nodded, looking rather horrified. _

"_I can't. I don't have the strength, sir," she shouted back quickly. Dumbledore shook his head immediately. _

"_That is untrue, but I will allow you access to my magical potential none the less. Now I suggest you start casting."_

_She shook slightly, but she felt his arms tighten around her. "Breathe, Minerva, I had complete faith in you. Focus on the magic. I'm not going to let go." At the words she raised her wand, took a deep breath, and her wrist snap, casting the spell nonverbally. _

_At first, she thought she had failed. _

_The waves reached and crest and came plundering towards them. She forced her eyes to remain open and her hand found the calloused one of her Professor and he squeezed it comfortingly, his own blue eyes, watching the waves. _

_Before it could crash into them, however, it reached the barrier. The waves were thrown from them in such a force that the previously clear barrier lit up with gold magic running off it like oil against water. The gold was bright and stunning and mixed the royal reds and calm blues of their magic. It seemed to reach up past the sky and into the heavens. _

"_We're alive," Minerva said, shocking and disbelief mingling in her voice. Her heart was beating uncontrollably as she gazed at the barrier she had made around them. The roar of silence was almost too loud in her ears. _

"_We are," Dumbledore remarked, wanting to shake his head at the disbelief in his student's voice. "Not that you should have doubted yourself at all." _

_She laughed and felt the rest of her energy begin to drain from her body. They were safe now. Albus would protect her. Then, much to Dumbledore's horror Minerva's form collapsed in his arms. _

_He pulled her back quickly and tightened his grip on her. Fear and panic spiked his heart. What had he done? He apparated on the spot to the only place he could think of._

_Nicholas Flamel opened the large doors for him and Albus barely registered to the alarm and shock on his own teacher's face. _

"_Nicholas, she isn't awake!" _

_He knew he must be a sight, drenched to the core, carrying a girl in his arms, with wild magical crackling around them, but Nicholas Flamel seemed to be perfectly calm and collected._

"_Come in boy."…_

"And then I woke up in the Flamels' parlor and we stayed for dinner," she finished and then laughed aloud at the expression on her two best friends. Tom's eyes were dilated and the Alastor's mouth hung open. Tom recovered first and leaned back in the booth.

"Damn," was all he said.

"What was it like?"

"The food? It was delicious—"

Alastor leaned across the table and tickled her mercilessly. Minerva gave a very un-Minerva squeal and conceded. "Okay, okay! They were amazing; really, completely amazing, fountains of knowledge. Their home is gorgeous as are they."

"So now, you just hang out with them all the time right?" Alastor asked bluntly, running a hand through his hair, telling her that he was perplexed.

"Of course," she answered with a smirk. With a wave of her hand, the Privacy charm was lifted and the buzz of the restaurant came flooding in.

"So what do you do with them?"

Minerva shrugged. "At the end of last year's term Nicholas and I worked on a potion he was creating. We go for dinner quite a bit when Dumbledore's here. Perenelle and I are close. We owl regularly," she said with another shrug. "Other than being over six hundred years old they're rather like normal people."

Alastor cackled loudly. "Yes, oh so normal Min baby." She nailed his shins under the table and he swatted at her lightly. She smiled and slid out of the booth.

"Speaking of which, I must be off. I will see you two back at school."

"Have fun," Tom called sarcastically. "Don't do anything I wouldn't!" She rolled her eyes and blew them a sarcastic kiss, then apparated on the spot with a quiet pop.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Nicholas Flamel felt the wards twist around slightly and smiled when he recognized the magical signature as that of the lovely Minerva McGonagall.

Nicholas smiled and got up from his chair. He stretched, his stiff muscles aching from sitting days in the same chair. His iron gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a scarlet ribbon. He wore an old waistcoat, gray and scarlet, with a matching set of pants.

He turned six hundred and eighty four later that year, though no one could guess from his thirty or forty year old appearance. His face had few lines with an olive undertone and kind brown eyes. His nose was average if a little sharp and his lips were thick and well defined.

He met her on the steps to the house, mansion really. "Ah, Minerva," he greeted her coming down the stairs to greet the petite young witch. It was the first time he had seen her since her visit during the beginning of her summer break.

She smiled brightly and allowed him to kiss both her cheeks a very French gesture and then offered her an arm. "Walk me around the garden."

And that they did.

The Flamels lived on a vast stretch of land with beautiful and lush grounds. They had a large forest and a small loch complete with fish, but alas no Giant Squid. They currently strolled through the gardens where every type of colorful flower and plant seemed to be growing.

"Perenelle is currently working on lunar phase potions, so I doubt she'll find us for a few hours. Tell me about your time in Ireland."

Minerva smiled elegantly and spoke of the horrid summer weather, the rain, and the Professors she studied with there. Nicholas nodded and listened carefully, a man with few emotions, a definite contrast to his bright and bubbling wife.

"It was very different the customs, I suppose, but enjoyable. Nicholas, may I ask you something?"

He nodded. "You may."

"How is that you know when I'm coming before I even arrive?" Nicholas suppressed a smile. _Clever girl_, he mused, though he expected nothing less.

"There are extensive wards placed around the property. When one apparates or arrives through the Floo, the wards pick up on their magical signature of the person. After your first visit, I have simply learned your signature."

Minerva's eyebrows contracted and Nicholas could tell she was taking in all the new information. "Does everyone have a magical signature then? Like a sort of fingerprint for their magic?"

Nicholas nodded again. "Then can you always tell when someone unknown is coming?"

"Not always. The said person has to have powerful enough magic for the wards to pluck the signature from them. It's a painless and unnoticeable change in their magical field. If the person's magic isn't powerful enough, the wards will manipulate, but not identify them."

"And what does the signature look like?"

He paused and considered. "It can be a color or a scent. It's almost like a tag. It can trace your magic and surround you. Most powerful mages can have several signatures."

"What does mine look like?"

Nicholas's lips curled upwards slightly. "Well, when you arrive and preform apparition, your magic is a deep red, but when on the occasion we first met Albus remarked seeing that your claustro shield was originally clear and the magic inside of it was gold. It could be that your household magic signature is red and your combat and more advanced magic is gold."

She was quiet for a moment and Nicholas let the thoughts sink in. He knew enough of Minerva to be sure her mind was racing with intelligence.

"And can you see the signature or can you just read it because you could the wards?"

They rounded a corner and Nicholas slowed his walking. "No, those who have a trained eye can catch glimpses of them. The person you're observing would have no idea you're witnessing it. They might not even be capable of seeing it themselves."

"Could you teach me?" she questioned softly and he nodded once. He slipped his arm out of hers and folded his arms behind his back.

"But of course."

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Perenelle Flamel smiled brightly when he caught sight of Minerva McGonagall walking around the garden with her husband. She had Minerva had corresponded several times since she returned to Hogwarts, but this was the first time she had seen her since the summer.

Casting a depth eye around, she noticed no trace of her Albus Dumbledore, the boy she considered to be a son, and smiled softly making her way towards the two.

"Nicholas, you've stolen my Minerva out from under me!" she exclaimed dramatically, stopping before the two before hugging Minerva tightly.

"Do not suffocate her, Perenelle," Nicholas said dryly. She laughed and Minerva smiled. They moved back towards the house and sat in for an informal lunch, discussing Minerva's classes and Head Girl duties, how her teaching was moving along, and Perenelle's latest experiment.

Minerva had always felt comfortable in the Flamel's house. Not as at home as she felt at Hogwarts, but safe and warm none the less. Their house was the size of a rather small castle and filled, much to Minerva's delight, with an enormous about of books.

They then fell on the subject of the Halloween ball. "So, I'm trying to find people to help decorate. The social committee, as the name denotes, are useless." The Flamels laughed. "On the occasion they they're asked to do something other than look pretty and bat their eyelashes, in comes the excuses. I can see them making the perfect society wives in a few years' time."

"So what are you going as, Minerva?" Perenelle asked interestedly. Nicholas leaned back in his chair and stretched, watching his wife and girl carefully. He smiled inwardly knowing his wife simply adored Albus' apprentice. She was always in such an exceptional mood after Minerva and Albus visited.

Minerva shrugged, her curls moving off her shoulders with a gracefully flourish. "I don't know, probably Minerva."

Perenelle leapt up from the table much to Minerva's surprise. "That simply won't do. We're going upstairs, Nicholas."

Minerva's eyes darted to Nicholas as Perenelle took her arm and pulled her gently towards one of the many staircases. "I wish you luck, Minerva," Nicholas called after her, placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and turning back to his parchment and books.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"You're house is something of a fairytale in which all time has stopped," Minerva said as they moved into Perenelle's dressing room. Perenelle laughed delighted.

"You're been hanging out with my husband too much, chere," Perenelle said with light giggling.

Perenelle was like expensive French perfume and quite easily the most beautiful woman Minerva had ever seen. She was tall and thin like a sapling. Her hair was either as white as snow or as blonde as the sun. Minerva could never decide which. It cascaded down her back like a stick straight waterfall.

Her womanly features were untouched by her age. She could have been anywhere from thirty to forty years old, but she was in fact much, much older.

Her skin had a red undertone which rather contrasted to her husband's olive one. Like Minerva, her cheekbones were slightly elevated, a sign of royalty in the West. Her nose was sharp and angular ever so slightly, contrasting to the curves of her eyes. These were surrounded by short eyelashes that matched the tones of her hair.

Her eyes were almost colorless, but on closer examination contained a little of almost every color. The pupils were black like night and the iris seemed to be like water, diluted with droplets of blues, greens, purples, even reds and oranges.

Minerva had seen Perenelle in all sorts of outfits ranging from extravagant dresses made of the softest silks to a pair of old trousers, but regardless she looked soft and feminine.

"This was my dressing room when I had a role of what you referred to as a society wife. I have just the costume, I think!"

They had reached a large circular room with seven beautiful wardrobes. There was a beautiful vanity with large mirror. The room was breathtaking and elegant.

She wandered around, looking at the masks on the wall and the jewelry in its cases. Perenelle was looking in the fifth wardrobe which was filled to the brim with dresses of all sorts, silks, tuft, and lace.

"Perenelle? May I ask you something?"

"Ask away, chere, I'm certainly not getting any younger," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the fabrics.

"Some would say you're not getting any older either," Minerva countered, raising a beautiful guild mask to her face and looking at her reflection.

She laughed delightedly and continued to sort through her treasures. "Touché, darling, but if you wish my answer, then you must ask the question, no?"

"When did you and Nicholas marry each other?"

Struck by the odd question, Perenelle appeared from the dresses and grabbed Minerva by the hand and sat down with her on a purple window seat overlooking the lake.

"Nicholas and I met while he was a bookseller in medieval France. I was twenty seven and Nicholas had just turned thirty eight. I was walking around the city one afternoon when I seemingly wandering into his store." She smiled at the memory and Minerva could feel joy escaping her at the memory.

"I was a bit like you, Minerva; it took a lot to catch my attention." Minerva cheeks flushed and her embarrassment seemed to make Perenelle laugh. "Ah, don't be embarrassed, ma chere, it is a rare and wonderful trait, no? At that time I was much more focused on my magic and my books. I had little time for childish boys and their manhood, much to the distress of my mother. I was the only girl in a family of six older boys.

"But when I moved into the shop, there was something different about the way he stared at me. We had attended different school of magic in France and the laws against its secrets were much more heavily guarded. I browsed around for a while. I felt at home there and then Nicholas came out all dusty with his hair sticking up in the back.

"'_Bonjour Mademoiselle,'_ he said courteously. Then our eyes met and I felt something move inside of me. Something I have never forgotten. We were married 56 days later. We'll celebrate our six hundredth and fourth anniversary in March."

Minerva smiled softly, filing away every detail of her story in her mind. If anything, Minerva wanted a romance like Perenelle had with Nicholas. They moved together as one. There was no need for words between them.

It was simply magical.

"You look amazed, darling," Perenelle said with a youthful laugh. Minerva turned her attention back to the woman.

"That's a long time to be with someone," Minerva said softly, almost in wonder, "I haven't even made it to twenty yet. Did you ever love anyone other than Nicholas?"

"There are my types of love, Minerva, and as many variants of those loves. I have never loved another quite like I love Nicholas."

Minerva nodded slowly, her mind raveling through the different types of love she was currently experiencing in her own life.

At the girl's concentrated expression, Perenelle giggled. "Oh, Minerva, your mind must be a curious place indeed. Love will happen and you will know, my child, you will simply know. Just like you know when you've completed a perfect spell. Love is its own form of magic, secured at the very heart of our souls."

Minerva blinked at the explanation, but tried to let her mind ease back into a humming thoughtfulness.

"Come, I think I have the perfect dress for you to wear to this Halloween ball of yours."


	6. Chapter V: Halloween

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Over 775 views and only 12 reviews. Feed the writer's starving passions and leave your feedback. I got some feedback saying that Minerva has way too many personalities going on, but as the story continues, you will see her really fall into who she is become. We see some many different sides of her, with Albus, with Tom, with Alastor, with the rest of the schools, even with the Flamels. She's is only 17 and is still really developing, but as the story develops more and we see Grindelwald and the Leiden enter the scene, she will really settle down with her one side. The more reviews I get, the faster I update. Whether you like it or hated it, please review.**

_October 31, 1953_

In the middle of the Great Hall sat the three lonely bachelors: Albus Dumbledore, Silvanus Kettleburn, and Armando Dippet. They stood all dressed similarly in dress robes around a tall silver table, watching their students coming in to the beautiful decorated hall.

Miss McGonagall and Mister Riddle had done an exceptional job of decorating with silver, orange, and black balloons, levitating orange pumpkins, and silver tables and chairs.

The students came in waves, clearly happy with the decoration and the soon growing dance floor. "The new student from Durmstrang arrives tonight," Armando said conversationally. Albus hummed in response watching Rolanda Hooch and a group of her Slytherin friends all dressed as Amazons enter.

"I know you have your doubts, Albus, but it's for the best. He just wants to finish his education."

"If you think so, Armando," Albus said with a shrug. He had informed Armando how he felt about the situation and this Mister Rousse, but it was Armando's decision not his to make.

Kettleburn took a sip of the punch and nodded towards the doors. "Now there's a vision," he said quietly.

Minerva and her posse had entered and Albus hoped he didn't smile too brightly, but really he couldn't help it.

The costume was from the court of Marie Antoinette almost two hundred years ago. The dress was white. The layers of taffeta accentuated her slender waist and curves. The fabric was laced and sheer and had such detail in the beading work that it was unimaginable how long it took to sew by hand. Her hair style supplemented Minerva's natural air of sophistication, piled on top of her head behind a small, but regal looking crown.

The dress hung off her shoulder, showing how small and slender they were. When she turned with the rest of her posse into the room, he saw her smile towards someone. Her pale face was naturally ashen without the need to powder it with white makeup as Arabella Figg had. Her eyes were outlined lightly with black eyeliner and a sparkly red star was position on her left cheekbone. It caught the light like a diamond next to her emeralds of eyes.

The flair was Perenelle, he knew immediately, but Minerva looked slightly uncomfortable in something so outwardly bold. Albus resisted the urge to chuckle.

Beauty, her beauty, was not something Minerva took much pleasure in. He'd asked her about it one night over a chess game. She had shrugged indifferently, her eyes focusing on the chess pieces in front of her, and said, "It's not something I can control. I suppose it is what it is. There are more important things than fleeting beauty that is doubtful to last. Checkmate." Her wisdom often startled him. It crept up on him when he least expected it.

The rest of her group was dressed in similar outfits. The boys in old fashioned suits and Alastor Moody even had a Parliament-like wig atop his head. (In fact he seemed rather amused with himself about it.)

Arabella Figg wore a mint green dress that was larger and more layered than Minerva's. Her curls were close to her face and she wore a large flowered hat that matched the dress. She looked boisterously happy as she normally did, but the only one who seemed like they belonged in the time period was Minerva.

Armando seemed to agree. "How curious, the court of Marie Antoinette. Your apprentice would have thrived, Albus, though the rest of them may have been beheaded by now."

Kettleburn snorted in response. "Nasty business the chop block, well if you'll excuse me, I see a glass of pumpkin juice with my name on it."

Albus and Armando watched him go. "So tell me, Albus, Youngest Transfiguration World Champion at age fourteen, full animagus at age fifteen, published researcher at age sixteen, what do you and Miss McGonagall have planned for this year?"

"You're still angry I took on an apprentice without asking you," Albus said cheerily, watching Minerva and her party move to a table and converse with the others around them.

"Damn right I am, but now I'm beginning to understand just what you were thinking in that insane head of yours," he said, grumpily, taking a sip of punch.

Albus smiled unconsciously. "You knew she was powerful when she stumped the Sorting Hat for five and a half minutes, Armando. I was just showing you and the rest of the world what I saw every day in my classroom."

Armando snorted disbelievingly. "So you decided to pit the poor innocent Fourth Year against nine of the most heavily advanced N.E.W.T. students in the world in front of the entire Wizarding Community."

"Yes," Albus answer with a bright smile and twinkling eyes.

"What did you think would happen if she failed? It could have destroyed her future career and your choice of students!"

"She wasn't going to fail," Dumbledore said automatically. His eyes watched as Poppy Pomfrey, the Healer intern came in on the arm of Michael Bennett, both dressed like Muggle doctors.

"You didn't know that. At fourteen all magic is still flouting and explosive. You had no way of knowing she could even perform that type of extensive magic."

"But she didn't fail. Minerva beat each and every one of those graduates in a matter of minutes. She didn't have to try. If I hadn't taken her as an apprentice, we'd be wasting valuable years, Armando, wasted time. I know you're still angry, but what's done is done. There's nothing else we can do about it now." There was a note of finality in his voice now that Armando sensed.

"You understand her, don't you, Albus, ol' chum. You understand the way her mind works," the Headmaster said, watching the Head Girl now.

"I do," Albus confirmed quietly, "though it is vastly different from my own, brilliance often works in the same way. Or at least that's what I feel I've learned over my thirty four years."

Armando shook his head, graying hair moving with his red dress robes. "Brilliance is not something I find in a healthy supply in my own mind, unfortunately. I don't understand and I won't pretend either, Albus, brilliance and power go hand and hand in our world. It is a blessing and a curse. I trust you've told her that."

"She needed guidance to flourish, old friend, guidance that was too advanced for Hogwarts to provide," Albus began, but Armando held up his hand to stop the Professor.

"I know, Albus, there's not a need to defend her. On the contrary rather, I was going to tell you when I've decided to retire and you take over as Head, I would like someone I trust to take your place as Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House. Would you be so kind as to pass the message to Miss McGonagall that both positions are hers should she want them at _any_ time in her future."

Albus' smile was wide. "Thank you, my friend. She'll be pleased."

"I know."

Albus laughed and Armando frowned, his tongue quick to defend himself. "Come now, you're not the only one who watches out for students with potential. I've had several reports of how wonderful a teacher 'Miss Minerva' is. Hogwarts would be amiss not to have her. Now stop smiling, Albus, Catherine has arrived with our new pupil."

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"Miss Hooch, a word if you please?" Rolanda Hooch, sixth year Slytherin and Beater extraordinaire was alarmed when Headmaster Dippet sought her out in a crowd and pulled her to the side of the party.

"If this is about the graffiti in the Gryffindor locker room, Headmaster, I can safely say that I wasn't my fault," she said quickly with an innocent pout.

She sported an attractive Amazon costume. Her normal spikey hair was dyed black and she wore a fake snake around her neck. Her costume wasn't inappropriate, but teetered on the line of being a little too suggestive. The loud and overall brash girl knew almost everyone in the school in some form of another, the Queen of Gossip and Leader of the Rumor Brigade.

"I shall look into it now, Miss Hooch, but meanwhile I have a task for you. This is our newest student, Vincent Rousse, a transfer from Durmstrang Institute. Mister Rousse this is Rolanda Hooch of Slytherin House. Miss Hooch, I was wondering if you could show Mister Rousse around and introduce him to a few people here at the party. He'll be attending seventh year N.E.W.T. classes and has just been sorted into Slytherin."

Rolanda looked at the dark and overall solemn looking boy. He was small, but muscled, and almost receded into himself like a black shadow. His brown hair was short and buzzed cut. He wore dark robes and his seemingly brown eyes were downcast around him.

"Sure! This way Vincent," she said happily, dragging the dark boy by the arm. The boy was heavier than she anticipated, but her Beater muscles prevailed, and he caught up to her as they moved around the room, trying to introduce him to several people.

It was harder than it looked to keep track of all the rumors and what everyone's preferences were, but Rolanda's mind went crazy accounting for all the new information. Her professors just wished she'd use her memorizing mind to focus on their subjects instead of the newest Quidditch scores and the latest common room gossip.

"And then on the weekends we go to Hogsmeade. It's lovely this time of year, but a bit nippy in the winter with all the snow, but if you're from Durmstrang I bet the snow doesn't bother you at all. And then-"

"Vho is that?"

It was the first time Rousse had spoken since Headmaster Dippet had handed him off to Rolanda. Rolanda turned in the direction Vincent was looking.

"Oh! That's Minerva. Minerva McGonagall," Rolanda said with an envious smile. She and Garrett were dancing, though not very fluidly. He trounced on her toes several times before they broke apart and moved with the others in her group to a silver table.

Every male from the little First Years and their crushes to the Seventh Years and their lust after her perfection found McGonagall attractive.

There was much to be jealous of though. Besides the fact McGonagall was all but perfect and beautiful (at all hours) she had the brains, the athletics, and pick of any boy she wanted with a snap of her slender pale fingers.

The current girls and women of Hogwarts were attracted to two men in Hogwarts. The first being Tom Riddle the dark and powerful Seventh Year Head Boy. Everyone knew that there was a little something more than friendship between the Head Girl and Boy, though it never came up in public. The second was Albus Dumbledore, the hero of the Wizarding World, discover of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and their brilliant Transfiguration teacher.

Minerva McGonagall had both.

"McGonagall, the animagus, Minerva McGonagall?" he questioned quietly, but there was a spark of interest in his eyes now.

Rolanda nodded happily as they made their way towards the group. Ryan Garrett spotted them quickly and frowned. She had little time for Garrett, her Beater counterpart.

"Hello everyone!" Rolanda said happily coming around the table. Tom and Kelsie nodded from side. Minerva smiled. Garrett blinked.

"This is Vincent Rousse. He's a Seventh Year and just transferred. Vincent, this is Tom Riddle, Head Boy, Kelsie Appanatis, Paul Garrett, and Minerva McGonagall, Head Girl."

Vincent's eyes met hers and Minerva smiled softly and elegantly, just as she always did when people fell for her. Rolanda smirked and threw an arm casually around Minerva's bare shoulder.

"I know McGonagall looks all innocent and small now, Vincie Vince, but the truth is she's a lioness. Don't cross her. Seriously! If Garrett, Riddle, and Moody don't get you, then you'll have to deal with Albus Dumbledore, and if you're still alive, pah you wouldn't be, _but if you were_, you'd have to deal with the wrath of the Dueling Princess McGonagall," she said animatedly.

Minerva's cheeks flushed slightly. "Rolanda Hooch, you're horrible. He's just arrived and you're going to scare him off. Pleasure to meet you Vincent, ignore Rolanda, she's a bit excitable."

"I am not!"

Vincent nodded meekly and turned his head slightly, trying not to watch her. Rolanda rolled her eyes shoved Minerva's comment off. "Please, the only thing that you have a problem with is Slytherin coming into second place for the Quidditch finals."

"You wish. I've held the championship for the last five years, Hooch, and you and your snakes have lost every year."

Garrett spoke up to Rolanda's defense. He seemed overall bored with Vincent and his friends. "Too bad you lions won't go out on top."

Minerva glared sharply. Her green eyes seemed to glint gold for a moment before returning to their odd shade of green. "Carefully, Ryan, you guys haven't beaten my team in years," she said, raising a pencil thin eyebrow.

Garrett rolled his eyes and flexed his thick muscles in an overly obvious show of boredom.

"False sense of security, Minerva," he replied dismissively. Tom and Kelsie chuckled and Rolanda smirked. Then Kelsie cleared her throat, calling all attention.

"So where are you from Vincent?" she asked kindly.

"Myself and my family lived in Russia for many years before ve came here," he said with slightly accented words. Both Minerva and Tom nodded, watching him…analyzing him…with their eyes.

"Did you move here because of the war?"

"Ro!"

Rolanda cast Minerva a sharp look. "What? All I did was asked a question!"

"That's private, Ro, even if he did move here because of the war," Arabella hissed as well.

Then Vincent began to chuckle. "And what's so funny?" Alastor asked, watching the conversation quietly died down.

"You are all very polite. I take it you do not talk about the var here at Hogvarts?" he questioned. Tom Riddle spoke this time.

"Not often. It's affected almost every family here. It's best if we don't bring it up to avoid any hurt feelings or offenses."

"Seems silly, yes? You are all going out into the vorld with a var going on in less than a year, but you are not alloved to speak of it?"

He noticed how Riddle cast an eye at Minerva McGonagall. "That's a really good point," Arabella said quietly. She turned towards her friends, gauging their reactions too.

"But no, ve did not move here because of the var, Rolanda Hooch. My father vas lucky enough to get moved here for a promotion and it was easier for all involved to svitch schools to somevhere closer to London," he answered, shifting the conversation away from the war.

"And how are you finding the culture shock?"

All of a sudden a set of hands grabbed Minerva around the waist and pulled her away from the table.

"I need Minerva!" called a witch with bronze short hair and quiet blue eyes. She was wearing a Muggle nurse costume on. Minerva laughed as the girl pulled her away.

"That was Poppy Pomfrey," Rolanda informed him, "she's Madam Lenus, our nurses' assistant."

Vincent nodded shortly. Internally he was reminding himself not to get attached. He wasn't here to make friends. He was here to do his job, nothing more, nothing less.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"Poppy, what's going on?"

The normally calm and collected Healer was pink in the face and excitable, two unusual things. She was dressed up in a Muggle nurses' outfit which had made Minerva smile upon seeing it. Her bronze hair was short and barely touched her shoulders.

"Mina! Mina! I'm going to get married!" she exclaimed grabbed Minerva's hands.

"Poppy that's wonderful!"

She was beaming the bride glow. She showed Minerva the ring on her left ring finger. It was a modest diamond with a silver band.

"Be my maid of honor Minerva?"

Minerva blinked alarmingly. She and Poppy had been close during her days at Hogwarts, despite the age gap, and had been thrilled when Poppy returned to assist Madam Lenus. Minerva was struck for a few moments before words came to her mind.

"It would be my honor."

Poppy gave a very un-Poppy squeal and hugged Minerva tightly around the waist. She had happy tears running down her cheeks and her smile was the brightest Minerva had seen in a long time.

"I have to go and tell Madam Lenus! I'll see you soon, okay?" Minerva nodded quickly and Poppy flew away, but not before she turned back for a second.

"Mina! You look beautiful by the way!"

Minerva shooed her away in response with a happy smile. She turned back towards the crowds and saw Dumbledore watching her with a smile.

"Careful, that'll be you in a few years."

Minerva scoffed and joined him around a table. "Albus, you didn't dress up! I'm disappointed!" He chuckled, knowing that would be her response.

"What's the point of dressing up when you're wearing something like that, my dear?" he teased affectionately, "I see that Perenelle was eager to aid you in your quest to find a costume for this eve."

Minerva laughed lightly. "One offhand comment about a Halloween Ball was all it took to set her off like a firecracker," Minerva informed him. He chuckled and nodded.

"That sounds like Perenelle," he said with a twinkling smile. He was truly thrilled Minerva had taken so well to the older witch. Nicholas and he had been close for some many years, and though he and Perenelle were close (Perenelle thought of him like a son, he knew) it wasn't the same bond he had with Nicholas. Dumbledore had seen Perenelle with Minerva. There was always an unspeakable joy in her face when he arrived with Minerva by his side.

Nicholas was a man of few showing emotion, much like Minerva herself, Albus had realized after a year or so of watching their dynamics together. He (Albus) and Perenelle shared the same comfort of always knowing how much to feel and how to show it without fear of losing control. Nicholas cared deeply for Minerva as well, Albus knew, for he smiled at her when he knew she wasn't looking.

His thoughts were interrupted when Minerva came around the others side of the table and grabbed his hand. "Minerva-" he tried to dissuade her, but she wasn't hearing any of it.

"No, come on, Albus, just one dance?"

_You should know better_, he chastised himself. _You're supposed to be the smart one Albus, old boy, and this is a dangerous game you're playing._

Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds and they met his sapphires blue ones. Damn those eyes. He had decided before she even spoke again.

"Please?"

He conceded with a smile. "As you wish, my dear." Her bright smile made him feel a lot less guilty as he led her out on the floor.

Dancing with Minerva was surprisingly easy. Their minds seemed to be linked and when he moved, Minerva moved. There was no awkwardness as there had been with Ryan. (He wouldn't admit to watching them, mind you.) Her hand fit perfectly into the palm of his. He could feel her cool of shoulder against the sheer of the dress and his warm hand against her skin.

Their dance was watched by girls who almost turned green at the sight of the beautiful dance between Minerva McGonagall and their Transfiguration Professor. They were graceful turn after turn across the floor.

Their song ended and Albus pulled softly away from his apprentice. "I do believe this is where I leave you, my dear, before your classmates get any greener with envy."

Minerva mocked glared as she watched them, but her voice had the missing smile in her words. "They'll just have to suffer as I've decided I'm not going to share you."

He chuckled with the tone she had used to say it with, as if they were speaking about the weather. "I'll keep that in mind, then. I will see you tomorrow, my dear."

She smiled softly and bid him a quiet goodnight.

When Albus disappeared from sight, a hand fell lightly on her back. Without looking, Minerva acknowledged Tom. "Careful, Ryan won't like that, Head Boy," she said referring to his hand.

He didn't withdraw it.

There was a tone of humor in his reply. "It's less of a threat than you dancing with our _oh so _attractive Transfiguration teacher I think, Head Girl."

Minerva scoffed and turned to face him. "Ryan doesn't get to decide who I dance with," she retorted haughtily. "I am my own person, completely capable of making decisions for myself."

Tom smirked, his face dancing in the shadows.

"I know," he said smoothly, drawing closer to her. "But you caused quite a stir."

There were still crowds of girls whispering and looking at her. "Unbelievable," Minerva growled under her breath. "I'm his _apprentice_ for Merlin's sake. I should be allowed to dance with him whenever I feel like it!"

Tom chuckled. He looked startling comfortable in his own fashioned suit and tie. The purple of his tie seemed to match the light lilac undertones of Minerva's dress.

"Don't worry your pretty little mind," he said coolly, drawing her a little closer to himself, "people always throw rocks at things that shine."


	7. Chapter VI: We Are Seven

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Over 900 views and only 15reviews. Come on guys! If you like this story or Minerva check out my other story, Nurmengard Chains. They aren't related, but it's a good story if you like this time period. Thanks to Amazing Stella who pointed out that Rolanda Hooch was mentioned as a Gryffindor and Slytherin. She is a Slytherin and I've fixed the typo, so thanks for the careful reading. (: The more reviews I get, the faster I update. Whether you like it or hated it, please review. In this chapter we see a little more into Minerva and Albus' relationship and her abilities. And of course, some Quidditch.**

_November, 1953_

"You want me to _what_?"

Albus chuckled to himself and sat down behind his desk, watching her over the tops of his glasses. It was only twenty minutes into their lessons on the rainy Wednesday afternoon. He was struck with a sudden and curious idea when visiting at the Ministry.

"I want you to retrieve your wand," he repeated, reading the papers that were beginning to pile up on his desk.

She had been a good sport.

He had vanished everything but his desk and her chair from his sitting room. She looked at it skeptically when he asked her to sit down and give him her wand. She looked at him for a moment, but complied silently.

He smiled at her trust and raised his own wand, conjuring ropes that bound her to the chair. He saw a flicker of panic in her eyes while her body remained calm and relaxed. He then gave her the instructions as he placed her wand on a stack of books six feet in front of her. They were simple. Retrieve your wand.

"Using what?"

"Magic, my dear, magic!"

She looked at him like he had gone mad. Perhaps he had. Wandless magic, in its complete form, was a rare and often born ability. If a witch or wizard was taught to use her magic without a wand, then she would be accustomed to not need to use a wand to draw out their magic and concentrate it for spell work.

"That's all you're giving me?" she said, looking for instruction. Her hair was luckily pulled away from her face in a complex braid. Her eyes watched him from the corner and he hummed merrily.

"Yes, focus and surprise me, Minerva."

That had become their phase. "Surprise me". Since her first competition at the World Transfiguration Championship, they had shared that special phase, something she could go for. Something, Albus mused, she had always been able to do.

She huffed and turned back to her wand and the stack of books. She became quiet and focused. Albus waited for a moment before turning to watch her.

Things that Minerva could not do on her first try often frustrated her. Albus, of course, knew this well. Though it was a rare occurrence for her to have difficulty with any of the tasks she completed, when Albus threw her into a new situation without warning, she defaulted to her wand and her wits.

The minutes passed and with every seconds Minerva got more and more agitated. Albus continued grading his papers and watching her from across the room.

It was well past an hour when he decided to act. She had managed to knock the books over, levitate the wand for a few seconds, but nothing concrete. Her patience was frying away quickly.

Albus reached his own wand and with a crack of magic conjured a fiery serpent.

"REACT MINERVA!"

And react she did.

Suddenly the ropes binding her caught fire with a blue blaze and the chair collapsed into ash. The moment she hit the ground, the serpent that filled the room exploded with a puff of smoke. Minerva climbed to her feet and Dumbledore saw that in her hand was her wand.

He smiled and sat back in his chair, obviously comfortable. "You're enjoying this I see," she said tartly, brushing the ash off her uniform with a flick of her wand.

"I am not," he chuckled, taking away from his words, "well, maybe a little bit. Talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"I couldn't reach my wand and when you conjured the snake I had a heart attack and eliminated the threat before it could eat me," she said simply, sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

"Why was incapacitating the snake different than reaching your wand?" he questioned, pressing his fingers into a steeple and pressing against his lips.

Minerva frowned, in obvious thought.

"It isn't."

"Correct," he praised, "it shouldn't be. You were in a relaxed situation and when I conjured a fire snake, you were forced to react to the threat."

"Like underage magic," she remarked, pursing her lips.

"Correct again. You felt threatened and you acted in self-preservation. What I find interesting is most people would have been able to discard the ropes and then be able to run. You however eliminated both the ropes_ and_ the snake."

Minerva caught on automatically. "You think I can perform wandless magic."

"I do," he confirmed, watching her reaction. "But you don't think so."

She shook her head plainly. "Wouldn't I know by now? It would be a bit hard to miss."

Albus shrugged and took off his glasses. "No not necessarily. Your magic is very controlled, very refined. You wouldn't have burst of uncontrolled magic unless you felt mortally threatened. You have advanced skills in non-verbal magic; that's part of the criteria for wandless magic as well."

He swept around the desk and conjured another chair. He took her by the hands and sat her in the chair. "Close your eyes please."

She complied and his hand stole her wand again, gently slipping it out of her left hand. "I need you to focus on the sound of the fire, my dear, the sound of the fire and the sound of my voice. Shut off the buzzing of thoughts in your mind and focus clearly."

He strolled around the chair and put his hands on her shoulder. He watched the fireplace closely. "Let everything else fall away just like you do for Occlumency."

Her body seemed to relax under his touch. She exhaled slowly and Albus could feel her stress draining. "Good," he said softly. "Good, now focus your magic as if you're going to perform a complex spell. Feel the swell of the energy inside of you. Carefully now,_ carefully_, I want you to open your eyes release the energy towards the fire."

Her green orbs were open now and Albus could see the pupils dilated with concentration in the mirror above the fireplace. It was a quiet and quick movement. The fire leapt and the flames stretched out, quickly dancing in beautiful circles. He smiled with Minerva as she realized she was controlling the fire on her own. She grinned and the flames sped up their dance.

Albus could almost see the allusion of people twisting and spinning in the flames. He shook his head in amazement and laughed with delight.

The sound startled Minerva and the flames dissipated. She breathed slightly shakily. Albus just grinned. This was going to be interesting and most definitely fun. (Of course, it was very illegal in the eyes of the Ministry.)

Later that night Minerva walked around Dumbledore's fireplace looking at all the photographs. Dumbledore leaned back in his comfortable chair and watched her affectionately.

Fawkes was singing a soft melody that soothed the air around them. He was sitting on his brass perch, smiling at his favorite witch and wizard.

The scene was serene until Minerva's gasp startled him out of the trance. He was at her side immediately. Her hand quaked slightly as she pointed to the photograph of Albus, his brother, and Gellert Grindelwald. They were in the field behind their houses. Albus and Abeforth were smiling slightly, both young with auburn hair and blue eyes and Gellert stood slightly to the side with his handsome blonde hair and dramatic looks. He was smirking arrogantly at the camera.

"I've seen that man before," she said, her unease and shock clear through her normally strong and unwavering voice.

"Where have you seen him before Minerva?" There was a tone of sharpness in Dumbledore's voice. There's no way Grindelwald could have found her. Even if he had and she didn't realize it, Gellert looked very different now. He hadn't looked so young in years. After their three way duel, he had changed drastically, and all this was before Minerva was ever born.

She blinked rapidly, staring at the picture with a sort of foreboding on her face. Her eyebrows crinkled and she frowned defensively at the man in the photograph.

"When I was poisoned…I had a dream…" she broke off and Albus waited for her to continue. "Though it was a very strange dream of sorts and I saw this man in it."

Dumbledore frowned.

In the back of his mind he was going through the effects of the Weedosoros poison in his mind. The accident had happened when a boy that fancied Minerva slipped some of the potion into one of her nightly sleeping draughts after she hadn't returned his affections. She had taken ill and they were unable to awaken her from her sleep.

She was trapped in a world of her own sorrow and pains. She would have died he and Madam Lenus hadn't come across a book on it sayings it's limited effect on animals. Together they were able to transform her into her animagus form until the effects wore off. They had never talked about what she saw. Albus always knew that whatever it was had been buried deep inside of her.

"What else did you see in this dream?" he said quietly, not taking his eyes of his apprentice.

She blinked quickly, her eyes still far away. "I was there, but it was as if we were moving forward in time. I was young in some, my age now, and then growing older in others. I saw…different scenes playing out. Things I was doing, over and over. You were there," she said, her eyes flickering up to his, "and another man with pale skin and red eyes…"

She trailed off and turned back to him. His blue eyes were studying her intensely. "I'm not crazy," she said icily.

"No you're not."

She blinked once in surprise and watched him. Albus made a show of turning around to hide his expression and to look out the window.

"What do you think?" she prompted.

"Have you had this dream since you took ill?" he asked, his voice soothingly emotionless.

"No," she said carefully, "but I've seen flashes of it, but never the whole thing."

"I think…" he trailed off for a moment, "that it's nothing to worry about. It's possible your mind picked up on the photograph subconsciously while you were in here and you mind spun a tale of it while the poison was in your system."

Minerva seemed to accept this answer and even looked a little relieved. "Who is it?" she asked.

There was a heartbeat before his answer.

"An old friend."

Minerva had known Albus Dumbledore long enough to know that this was not a time to pry for information.

Outside the sky was growing dark with gray clouds and claps of thunder. A storm was going to come. _Soon_. Both figuratively and literally. He sincerely hoped they were prepared for both.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"Gryffindor ahead 60-10 and things are starting to heat up. Hufflepuff's beater Jacksons and Kail are beating the Bludger out of the ball, desperately trying to hit Gryffindor Seeker Minerva 'Ace' McGonagall and eliminate her from the picture."

Commentator Orion Black's voice shouted all over the pitch, announcing the plays made in the last match determining the semi-finals.

Minerva swerved back in the air and repositioned, trying to get away from the Bludger. "Some fancy flying from McGonagall. Hufflepuff's got the Quaffle—shot-_no_ BLOCKED by Ingrid Mikios. That's why they call her the Flash, ladies and gentlemen."

The air was growing cooler and Minerva scanned the field for the swish of gold as her Chasers moved down the pitch. "GOAL FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

She cheered with a smile and allowed her heart rate to calm as she kept an eye on the Hufflepuff Seeker Channeling. He was tall and robust, more of a beater than a Seeker, Minerva thought.

Without warning, she was almost thrown off her broom by the Bludger. Her reflexes save her and she ducked out of the way just in time.

"Oi! Thresher! Blumethal! Your Seeker is getting pummeled over there! Forget their Keeper and take care of McGonagall!" Minerva urged her broom to go faster as she swept behind her Beaters.

"What's Jacksons playing at?" Beater Martin "Tiny" Thresher shouted over the roar of the crowds. Minerva frowned slightly and shook her head.

Tiny was a definite play on words. Martin was over six feet weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds, all muscle—there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. His head was shaved, though his small brown eyes were kind and playful.

"No idea."

The Bludger returned and Tiny hit it away with a sharp crack. She breathed a small sigh of relief. "Shark's got the other side. I'll stay with you," Tiny shouted. Minerva nodded sharply, resting back on her broomstick.

With her hair tied away from her face and her crimson and gold uniform Minerva felt very at home up in the air.

It was then that she caught sight of the Snitch. With a burst of speed she accelerated into the air. Her braid flew back like a banner. The Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Slytherins burst into cheers and the rest of the teams paused momentarily to watch the chase.

As she past the Slytherin stands, she could hear Alastor Moody shouting at her with a loud roar, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Nice flying Min baby!"

By the time Minerva had caught up to the Snitch, the Hufflepuff Seeker was too far behind. Minerva's heart raced as she swerved in get in closer to the ball.

"MCGONAGALL CAUGHT SIGHT OF THE SNITCH! LOOK AT THAT SPEED. DAMN, SHE'S FLY! Oops, sorry Professor! CHANNELING'S GOT NO CHANCE. SHE REACHES OUT—YES, YES! THAT'S THE GAME! GRYFFINDOR WINS 220-10 AND THEY ADVANCE INTO THE SEMI-FINALS IN THE NUMBER ONE SPOT!"

Minerva landed with sand skidding in every direction. The tiny Snitch seemed to fit perfectly in her hand. It flapped its wings pitifully, trying to escape her grasp, and Minerva grinned at it, reminding herself why she loved Quidditch.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Albus Dumbledore stepped into the Pensive and into the depths of the memory. The memory swirled and they were he saw a younger version of himself, not too much younger, standing next to a small raven haired girl.

_Minerva._

They were standing in the area besides the seven judges, watching a tall blonde headed boy on the stage. The banner around the arena read: TRANSFIGURATION WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP.

There were only three finalists left now. Eighteen year old Charlie Hooper, from the Salem Institute in the Americas, nineteen year old Jewls Charron from apprentice to the French Transfiguration Mistress of Beauxbatons, and fourteen year old Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts student.

Their task was simple. Transfigure a single grain of rice into whatever you so desire to show the judges your talent and your skills. You had one minute.

Charron stepped away from her Transfiguration upon the ding from the announcer. The grain of rice was still moving, but when she stepped away a full grown lion stood in its place. It was majestic and with a mighty roar is shook the stands. The audience cheered and clapped. Charron, the curved, short haired blonde make up canvas, turned pink with pride and bounded down the stairs to her mentor.

"A beautiful transfiguration by Miss Charron," the announcer said loudly. The man was tall and thin with a large black beard and lively brown eyes. "The judges are deliberating and we'll give them a few more moments before allowing out last finalist complete her transfiguration."

The younger Dumbledore turned towards the girl. Professor Dippet stood in the background, watching the two closely. "Ready, my dear?" he asked her lightly with a smile.

Minerva turned back to face him. Her hair was pinned back away from her face with gentle and skillful hands. She looked like a beautiful and mature creature for fourteen years old, but nervous, terribly nervous. She was hiding it well, but Albus could see it even more know that he had that night. Her eyes danced, the emeralds sparked with uncertainty.

"Yes, I think so," she said quietly. In her Hogwarts uniform and her wand in hand, Dumbledore realized she looked as she every time she walked into his classroom with that quiet smile.

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"No sir."

He chuckled and folded his hands behind his back. He wore his lilac robes, in an effort to amuse the girl. It had been a long week with four rounds of the finals. "Waiting for it to come to you?" he questioned.

She nodded calmly, her eyes watching the crowd, marking each of their anonymous faces with trepidation. "Miss McGonagall?" She turned her attention back to him immediately. "They don't matter, Minerva." His voice was soft, the words just for her.

"They're all watching."

Dumbledore put a hand on her arm, knowing this task was different than the others. She had a chance to show her skills that he knew surpassed all others present.

"They watch and they judge because they cannot have a hope of being able to do it. It's just like we do in class, my dear, just like that. It's not any different." People milled around them and the noise seemed to be deafening.

"Albus," Armando Dippet moved around and smiled at Minerva, though there was some tension in his gaze. "It's time."

Minerva blinked alarmingly. This was different than other tasks. They had told her what to do and she simply had performed it. It wasn't personal. They wanted it to be personal, a demonstration of her imagination. Of her mind.

Albus nodded sharply and turned back to Minerva quickly. The man on the stage came down to retrieve her. "Carpe diem," he said quickly, his blue eyes marking hers.

"Seize the day," she echoed, translating the Latin without a second thought. He nodded and gave her a small smile.

"Surprise me, Minerva, just like in class. Show them—show all of them—that they're wrong about you. Go show them what you see."

She nodded and bit her bottom lip before turning and making her way up the stairs. Armando Dippet stepped up next to him. "Is she ready?"

"I should hope so," Albus said cheerily as they watched Minerva turn towards the grain of rice and begin her spell work. "Minerva's much cleverer than they give her credit for."

The timer began its countdown.

Sixty seconds…

Fifty nine, fifty eight, fifty seven...

Armando shifted almost uncomfortably. "She's a just child, Albus," he began, but a gasp in the audience cut him sort. Minerva had stepped back to the edge of the stage and lowered her wand slightly. Her face was smooth, but focused. She was muttering constantly under her breath, watching the floor.

The floor of the stage was moving now, swirling like liquid. A light silver glow was being emitted. The grain of rice had been swallowed into the floor.

"By the gods…"

Then bulges began to appear and rise out of the stage. In the smoke and mist rose seven women. All were beautiful. Every part of them were shimmering silver and white as if they were made of stars. They were naked but for a single white ribbon that spun modestly around them and linked them together. They moved fluidly together in a captivating dance.

Albus risked a glance at the judges. They were too stunned for words.

Thirty seconds…

Twenty nine, twenty eight…

Twenty seven…

Then the women began to speak, their voices in harmony with each other. Their voices were like a beautiful yet haunting gentle echo.

"_We are seven in number, just seven_

_In terrible depths we are seven_

_Bow down, in the sky we are seven."_

Ten seconds.

Nine seconds…

With a flick of Minerva's wand, the women were transformed into seven shining doves which flew away and with an echoing snap vanished into thin air, leaving little stars in their wake.

The timer dinged and no sound around the room. No one spoke. Minerva seemed unconcerned with this and bounded down the steps with a small, but happy smile on her face. She moved to Professor Dumbledore and he put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her petite body into his side as if drawing her away from their judgments.

He grinned happy to see her smile and put his mouth to her ear whispering, "I think you gave this something to think about, my dear."

And Dumbledore was suddenly back in his office, standing at the end of the Pensive. He put it away and sat down at his large and heavy desk. On the edge near the top sat a series of photographs. The one all the way on the right was of him and the young Minerva from the memory. She won the Championship that day at fourteen, making her the youngest Transfiguration Champion in history.

He smiled softly at the photograph. He never regretted taking her on as an apprentice, though with the war coming down hard, he was wondering if he would. Next to the photograph of him and Minerva with her award sat an older picture. Its edges were crinkled and its front faded. Gellert Grindelwald smiled arrogantly from the frame, a constant reminder to for him to watch carefully the games he tries to play and the wars he tries to win.


	8. Chapter VII: Muggles and Magic

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. There was a lot of love for the last chapter and the flashback into Minerva and Albus' Transfiguration History. I really enjoyed writing that part and will hopefully be able to include more of that sort of thing in the story. If you like this story or Minerva check out my other story, Nurmengard Chains. They aren't related, but it's a good story if you like this time period. I love these next few chapters because not only do we see Minerva out of her beloved Hogwarts, but we also get to meet her family. Enjoy and please review! **

_Late December, 1953_

Minerva found her way through the thong of students, going against the flow towards the Great Hall for their final goodbye before going off for the holidays.

Dumbledore's classroom, she had found, was not an easily assessable place. She took one of the secret passages on the second floor and made her way towards his door.

She floated through the door to find two boys asking the Professor a few questions after their last class of the term. The fourth years gave the Head Girl a nervous smile and returned to the textbook perched on Dumbledore's desk.

Minerva saw Dumbledore's eyes flicker over to her for a moment; his way of discreetly acknowledging her presence, and then nodded to something on of the boys said.

"I would say that in order to transfigure the poor creature you'd have to use a different spell, that one wouldn't penetrate the thick armored skin. Minerva?"

Minerva blinked, startled by the sudden address to her blinked quickly in surprise. "Sir?"

"If you were going to transfigure a welsh dragon into a scaled green handbag would you use the switching spell or a double transformation between a second bag and the beast?"

Unalarmed by the comment, Minerva answered immediately as if this happened every day. "Neither, I'd do a reverse of the original _draconifors_ spell."

"Ah! That's it, excellent idea, my dear! But in theory, boys, this is a terrible idea. Welsh dragons are highly unpredictable and in order to reverse the spell, you'd have to be dangerously close to the beast. But that's an excellent question! I hope you boys have a nice and restful holiday and I look forward to seeing you when term resumed."

The two boys bid the professor goodbye and gave Minerva a small wave as they left for the Great Hall. Dumbledore took in Minerva's traveling cloak and gave her a small smile. She sat down in one of the desks in his front row one of her normal seats.

"You're leaving," he said simply.

It was a statement, not a question. She nodded.

She wore a thick emerald green traveling cloak and her long ringlets were pulled away from her face by a matching green pin.

"My father wrote to me last week and asked if I'd consider coming home for my last Christmas before I leave … and I've decided to go."

"Minerva, that's wonderful!"

She gave him a small, unsure smile, one Dumbledore was not accustomed to seeing on his apprentice's face.

Dumbledore knew that Minerva and her mother did not let along well since her parents had a terrible argument over Minerva's magical ability three years ago. Even abnormally talented witches only had a faction of Minerva's fantastic power.

Unaware their fourteen year old daughter was in the doorway listening, Isobel had mentioned that there was something_ wrong _with their daughter, that she was a freak among freaks. Her father, who Minerva was closest to, was a Muggle, and had never really forgiven his wife for lying to him about her own magic, had tried to convince Isobel's tirade that regardless of how powerful she was, they could not change who their daughter was. But their argument had grew and spiraled out of control with things that should have never been said were screamed. It had left Minerva heartbroken with the everlasting feeling of abandonment from her family.

Dumbledore watched her for another moment and then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Minerva, there's nothing wrong with you," he repeated to her as he had often done that year. She tilted her head and nodded carefully as if she still wasn't sure he was telling her the truth.

"I haven't been back for Christmas in three year, I can't help thinking something terrible is going to happen," she revealed. "But part of me keeps telling me it's ridiculous to be so anxious."

"Minerva, everything is going to be okay in the end, if it's not okay, then it's not the end." Minerva's eyes brightened as he sank back in his chair watching her again.

Minerva was always such an interesting read. She had confidence and power that simply demanded attention; though that was the last thing she wanted. She was beautiful and cool with the unattainable look that said that she had it all together. Only her striking green eyes said when everything was crashing down around her and she felt afraid.

Everyone thought Minerva McGonagall was perfect and powerful, beautiful and smart, though most were unaware of everything else about her. Her life was far from always happy and perfect, though private Minerva wouldn't let anyone know. Dumbledore knew she felt much safer in the security that no one could attack her in her vulnerable moments.

"Thank you," she spoke finally.

He smiled lightly in response trying to take away from the seriousness of his advice. "I'll be back a few days before terms starts again. A bunch of us are going to Kelsie Appanitis' summer cottage home for New Years and we're coming back early to get back on schedule before we have to start preparing for N.E.W.T.S."

"I'm sure when one takes every N.E.W.T. level class offered, you have to start preparing months in advance," he teased with a smile. Most thought a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore was cold and had no sense of humor, but his teasing always left a special few with a grin on their face. Even less had enough courage and familiarity to tease back. Minerva had earned that right early on in their friendship from her second year on.

"Scared I'm going to beat your scores on exit exams, Albus?"

"Ah, my dear, you'd have to get a perfect score to beat mine, so you'd better start studying now."

Minerva faked offense and put a hand over her heart in theatrics. Dumbledore just shook his head, amused.

Their relationship in public was a much more formal version of their relationship in private. Upon their apprenticeship, Albus had decided it would be more prudent and slightly less awkward for the then fourteen year old girl to address him on a first name basis instead of their more formal 'professor' or 'sir'. Minerva was careful, as he had hoped she'd be, when speaking and interacting with him during classes and at school functions.

Discretion was a large word in Minerva's vocabulary.

If he was as casual and free with their exchanges as they were in private, it might make the Board of Governors a little suspicious by their time together as would Armando and the other professors.

"You'd better watch out, next I'll be after your job," Minerva teased. There was a ringing bell indicating it was time for the students to head out. Minerva rose shakily to her feet all the smiles gone.

"I'll see you soon. If I finish the next section of my paper then I'll owl you the copy."

Albus sighed, sorry to see her leave the safe haven of Hogwarts. "All right, my dear. Have a good holiday and remember, Minerva: Christmas is time for rest, not work. Though I'm sure that brilliant mind of yours has a hard time turning off sometimes." Minerva blushed slightly and nodded.

"Have a good holiday," she called as she exited the room. "Tell Fawkes I said Happy Christmas."

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek as they parted.

Dumbledore chuckled and turned back to his essays and found he couldn't focus on them. His thoughts were on Minerva and her family. She would be just fine, he knew, it was just that she didn't.

Minerva was a brave girl and had always been, but in those few moments, she seemed so unsure about everything...her family. No one should feel that way, Dumbledore decided, but Minerva McGonagall had always had that look of tragedy about her.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"I'm so happy you're coming home this Christmas, Minnie!"

Malcolm McGonagall was a first year and if they hadn't shared a surname, no one would have guessed they were related.

Malcolm was already taller than his sister who was six years his senior. He was tall and burly with big bones and a large frame. His blonde hair was thin and resembled his mother's fragile locks. He was slightly tan with a sprinkle of freckles across his nose. His eyes were a muddy combination of brown and hazel. Only his face showed his young age. His cheeks were slightly plump and rosy and his nose was still a little too big for his features like he hadn't grown into it yet.

The rest of her family was so unlike Minerva that in family photographs, she looked like an outcast, standing there, pale, dark, and beautiful. It made her wonder sometimes if she was supposed to be here.

With permission to side-long apparate from the Headmaster, Malcolm was excited for his first experience with Minerva, who had easily passed her test after she turned seventeen back in October. They stood at Platform Nine and Three Quarters Station with people moving around and getting off the train, waving and colliding with their loved ones.

"See you, Minerva! I love you girl!" Arabella had called as the horde of people pulled her away with her dozen of suitcases.

Alastor appeared from behind Minerva with a grin on his tanned face and made Malcolm jump with fright. Alastor had always looked a little strange with his freakishly attentive blue eyes and scared many of the first years he came into contact with. He moved out of the train door as Tom Riddle and a few others of their friends hopped off the train doors including Ryan Garrett.

"Head Girl! We expect to see you at New Year's party, no rain check, you hear me. I bet twenty galleons that our team is going to win the pickup Quidditch game and we need you." Minerva smiled, but didn't answer the Ravenclaw Seventh Year.

"Bye Minerva!"

"Happy Christmas, Head Girl!"

"See you McGonagall!"

Malcolm watched from his sister's side as random people were talking to her and his sister seemed so calm and still in the chaos. He continued to watch curiously.

Tom Riddle moved forward and politely embraced her. His arms tightened around her and when he released her she felt the safety and security she felt his him and Hogwarts leave her.

"New Years, Minerva, you need a serious break."

She nodded and his dark eyes found hers. "New Years," she repeated with a small smile. He smiled and pulled down on a piece of her hair curling around her cheeks playfully before moving back.

Everyone seemed so strange in their Muggle clothing. It was so out of the ordinary. Ryan Garrett jumped off none too gracefully and moved over towards Minerva. He embraced her and kissed her cheek roughly, picking her up off the ground and spinning her once, though not in a polite manner that Tom had embraced her earlier. "Love yah, see you at New Year's, 'kay."

The train whistled and he broke apart from her. "Time to go, boys!" Garrett called and they made their way in towards where Arabella had moved.

Alastor stood watching Ryan's actions carefully. He put on a smile and kissed her cheek. "See you Min, baby, it won't be the same if you don't come. Bye Malcolm, Happy Christmas."

Malcolm snapped to attention and gave a shy wave. The platform was slowing down and Minerva turned to force a brave smile on her lips. "Ready, Mac?" He nodded eagerly.

Minerva tapped her wand to their luggage and it disappeared with a puff of smoke. "All right, this probably won't feel great…"

"Come _on_, Minnie! Let's go!"

She smiled and shook her head knowing he wouldn't know what hit him. She held out her hand and Malcolm eagerly took it. She shut her eyes, seeing their family cottage clearly in her mind and took a deep breath.

They apparated with a _pop_!

When the swirling stopped and Minerva opened her eyes, they were at the far end of their house's estates and Malcolm was kneeling on the ground spitting out the rest of this vomit from his mouth.

"That was…" he tried to find a word for the experience and Minerva just chuckled. "Miserable. Can we not do that ever again please?"

"It gets better with time, don't worry. You don't have to even attempt it until your seventh year, but luckily you made it with all your appendages intact." His eyes grew wide at her throwaway comment and quickly checked for all his fingers and toes.

Minerva gazed up at her house and for a moment she was overwhelmed with homesickness for the safety of Hogwarts and her dormitory. The house was large and made with old stones. The grays varied as they went around the house.

The seaside view was priceless and had been a refuge for her parents who had eloped and ran away from their families. It was a twenty minute drive to her father's church where he was a minister, but far enough from everything else to be a quiet and untouched area. The architecture was old and supported a gothic style and Minerva knew it was an older estate. The trees were tall and gave off a wonderful shade in the summer. There were three small towers that reminded her of the Astronomy Tower, but were nowhere near as tall. She noticed there were newly planted flowers and the gravel road was new since her last summer here.

Malcolm took her hand as they walked up through the green grass and up the gravel walk way. "Minnie?"

"Hmm?" she hummed in response, trying to ignore the twisting her stomach as they drew closer and closer to the house.

"When you graduate from Hogwarts are you going to go far away and never come back?" Minerva was so startled by the question that she stopped walking.

Malcolm's question seemed innocent, but Minerva heard and saw nothing in his face and she knew meant that he knew more than he let on. "I don't know, Mac, maybe, it depends what I decide to do. Why?"

Malcolm shrugged and looked away from his sister uncomfortably. "I just don't want to leave and never come back … because I love you and I've missed you." He had mumbled the whole explanation so quickly that Minerva had almost missed it.

"Malcolm," she turned him to face her, "I'd never leave to hurt any of you, but if I could make a difference somewhere else, then I'd go. I haven't come home because you or Robert, I love both of you so much."

He sputtered into a smile and grabbed his sister by her little waist and squeezed hard. "Come on, let's go." He took her hand and they quickly made their way to the door. Malcolm banged on it quickly several and then stepped back a little bit in front of his sister.

Minerva's heart was racing and her thoughts turned to take a step back from the house and apparate right back to the gates surrounding Hogwarts, but before she could make a clear decision, the door swung open to reveal the rest of her family.

"MUM!" Malcolm shouted, jumping into their mother's arms. Meanwhile, a smaller version of Malcolm rushed out of the doors and Minerva found herself smiling as she realized that little Robert was rushing towards her.

"Minnie!" he screamed racing into her arms. At five years old, Robert McGonagall Jr. was just reaching three feet tall, which was impressive for his age. Minerva smiled as he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Miss you, Minnie!" he said and took her hand. She let him lead her towards the door where her father stood positively beaming at his only daughter.

He was tall and thin with a bronze short cut hair with strands of gray moving in. His eyes were brown and muted like someone had tried to wash them out. They were darker than her mother's, but still less intense than Minerva's green ones. He wore a winter jacket over his black preaching slacks.

"Minerva," he said quietly embracing her with his long arms. Her father was tall, almost six feet, towering over her. Minerva let herself relax in her father's arms somewhat before he let go.

He smiled down at her and took her hand. "I'm so happy you're here. I've missed you." She gave him a smile and gave him another quick hug, still not saying anything, not trusting herself to say anything. Malcolm tore them apart, tackling their father down to the ground, laughing.

"Hey big man, I missed you!"

Minerva turned around to find her mother looking at her with a sorrow in her eyes as she gazed upon her daughter. She had lost some weight, Minerva had noticed and she wore a plain white Muggle dress with a pink ruffle apron. Her thin blonde hair was manually curled and seemed to be the opposite of Minerva's natural tiny ringlets.

"Hi mathair."

Isobel's lips quivered and she quickly embraced her daughter and Minerva could feel tears running back the back of her hands as her mother cried. But Minerva was not sad at all and only half-heartedly hugged her back. A mess of words and memories pierced her heart and that sense of being abandoned flooded her senses.

She pulled apart and gave her mother a forced smile and Isobel watched her daughter interact with their youngest child and she knew that all was not forgiven. Minerva was still hurting.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

It was that night when the questions began to flood in for the two Hogwarts students. They sat at their dining room table eating a feast of sorts. Minerva sat next to her father and Malcolm and was intently listening to Malcolm talking about all his classes.

"-but I don't really like Astronomy that much; the planets all blend together you know. And Charms is really fun because we get to do a lot of practice. Professor Rose said that my charm work is the best in my year!"

"That's great, Mac!" Robert said cutting into his steak and beaming at his son. Malcolm took a big bite of mashed potatoes and swallowed before continuing.

"But Transfiguration is really hard and Professor Dumbledore is sort of confusing, but Minnie gets to teach my Transfiguration classes now!"

Minerva choked slightly on her glass of water and found that her entire family was looking at her. "Really? Are you allowed to do that Minerva?" There was a cold sense of curiosity in her mother's voice.

"Yes. Professor Dumbledore has to be at the Ministry quite a bit during his morning classes and I'm more qualified than a Ministry substitute," Minerva said calmly, watching her mother's reaction carefully. She carefully dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her tartan napkin and took a drink of wine.

"That's excellent, Minerva!" Minerva tore her eyes away from her mother and gave a small smile to her dad who had spoken. "Do you enjoy it?"

Minerva nodded. "I do. It's really satisfying."

Malcolm quickly turned the attention back to him and Minerva smiled listening to him tell his parents all about the castle and secretly she was grateful for the attention being taken off of her.

Dinner after that was quick and easy and everyone retired early for bed, excited for the rest of the holiday to get started. Minerva wasn't sure if she had ever felt more homesick for Hogwarts in her life.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Robert McGonagall had learned a lot about magic over the years since he had seen his daughter last. The last two summers after Hogwarts she had been home a single week before studying abroad in both France and Ireland. She hadn't come home for Christmas either, working over the holidays with one Professor Dumbledore on what she claimed was her independent study for her fifth year exams.

So it was surprise to see how much his daughter had grown up since then. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen early in the daylight hours watching her write away on a stack of parchment while the dawn light was shining through the windows behind her.

She had a pot of tea sitting to her right and her wand to her left. Robert watched her with interest. His daughter was seventeen, though she was stunningly more beautiful and mature than her years.

Minerva had always been tiny. When she was born she had weighed in at four and a half pounds and even now she barely reached two inches past five feet and couldn't be over a hundred pounds. Her long hair was braided away from her pale flawless face and a few curly fly away draped around her cheeks. The focus of her face was her mysterious and illusive green eyes that were like emeralds.

"Da?"

Robert jumped out of his haze and smiled to his daughter and moved into his kitchen. She had glanced up at him for several moments before she moved again.

"You're up early," he said in a cheerful voice, sitting down next to her. Minerva smiled once and her left hand paused on the parchment, her quill floating up above the paper. "Having trouble sleeping?"

He didn't miss Minerva blinking once quickly before answering. "No, I'm used to little sleep with homework. My hours are still messed up from mid-terms and I thought I'd do something productive if I was going to be awake."

"What are you working on?"

Minerva set down her quill and her hand found the cup of tea in front of her. "My newest thesis paper for Professor Dumbledore … I've been working on it since I finished my Animagus Paper."

Robert smiled and looked down at her neat and curve handwriting. "Interesting. Are you enjoying your … uh … " he struggled for the correct terminology.

"Apprenticeship?"

He nodded. "Yes, I couldn't think of the word."

"Yes, it's been a bit slower now that I finished my work on animagi, but I'm enjoying it. Professor Dumbledore and I are very close.

He smiled, though there was a pang in his gut that resembled jealous every time the name Dumbledore was mentioned. "How many animagi are there?"

"Still living? I'm the only one. There are four other known throughout history, but they left no records on how they managed their transformation. There was an Egyptian woman who left some scraps about her process here and there, but no one could really make sense of her writing so it was destroyed. Professor Dumbledore says that even with my notes it's going to be hard for the Ministry to repeat the process with others, but even so, they haven't been very pleasant about the subject."

Minerva took her eyes off him and picked up her quill again, scribbling a few more sentences. "Malcolm told me that you're Head Girl. Congratulations." Minerva paused again in her writing and nodded her head towards him.

"Thank you."

He took another stab at conversation. "So Malcolm's told us about his classes, what are you taking this year?" Minerva wasn't sure if he was really interested or just trying to find out all he could about what he'd missed in the past years.

"This semester my N.E.W.T. classes are Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Astronomy, Alchemy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmacy, but I had Ancient Studies last term."

"Wow, that's a lot," Robert sounded impressed. "And you're Head Girl, and you're on the Quidditch team, so Malcolm said, and you help Professor Dumbledore teach. Is there anything else you can do at Hogwarts that you aren't going, Minerva?"

She gave him a small smile. "I keep busy," she said quietly. Robert opened his mouth to say something else but there was a chorus of hoots from three owls as they flew into the open window.

They each dropped their letter to Minerva who rummaged around in the leather bag at her feet and pulled out three sweets that resembled dog treats. The owls hooted in appreciation and perched themselves on the back of the kitchen chairs.

Minerva set the moving newspaper aside. _The Daily Prophet_, Robert read and slid a finger under the seal of the first letter and quickly scanned the letter. She smiled and shook her head and setting the letter away with the corner of another paper sticking out of it. She turned to the second letter and paused as she noticed the Hogwarts seal.

It would be from Dumbledore she reasoned and was quickly proven correct. She smiled again reading the words and Robert noticed that she took more time reading over the words from the second letter. She took the stack of papers to her left, about twenty or so sheets, and tapped her wand twice to it and right before his eyes, the paper duplicated.

His mouth hung open as he watched again how Minerva pointed her wand at the stack and they shrank and could suddenly fit in the palm of his hand. She busied herself putting the paper in the third owl's pouching and without a farewell the owl burst forth in flight.

Minerva turned back with her wand in hand and quickly took in her father's startled expression. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you…"

Robert blinked quickly and shook his head. "No-no, I'm sorry. It's just that's not something I see every day. Malcolm said he couldn't do magic outside of school…"

"I'm of age, at seventeen any witch or wizard can produce magic outside of school without being expelled from Hogwarts," Minerva said simply. She turned to the other two owls and quickly paid the larger on with a tiny bronze coin. He quickly tried to take off, successfully knocking over the stack of papers before getting into the air.

Before he could help her pick up the paper, Minerva had snapped her fingers that the papers had flown back into their original positions. Robert picked up three photographs that had fallen out of the first letter she had received. Curiously he looked at the first one.

Minerva was rising in the air on a broomstick and was wearing a uniform of red and gold. He watched with wonder as she chased around boy with a similar but different colored uniform on a broomstick. She dodged a black ball with a sharp curve and then he saw what she was chasing: a tiny gold ball. His heart raced when she tumbled off the broom, only to be caught by it again. With a broad smile on her face she held up the tiny gold ball in her hand grinning in triumph.

The second was of her and a boy. They were sitting together in an obviously posed position. Minerva was perched in a black and green laced dress and he was in a black and white suit. The two seemed to be attending a ball. The boy was tall and muscular and had an arm wrapped around her waist. For a moment they were still then they were obviously laughing at something someone outside the lens had said and the boy took Minerva's hand and spun in her around, kissing her cheek in an elaborate display.

The last was a group shot of five people. Minerva was in the center with three boys and a girl spread out on either side of her. They moved in the photo, laughing with huge smiles on their faces.

The first boy to her right was tall and slim with a paler complexion, dark hair, and piercing dark eyes. The other was tall and buffer with long blonde hair and tanned skin. He had his arm slung much more casually around Minerva's waist and had somewhat of a smirky laugh. This had been the boy in the previous photo. The last boy was oddly shaped with lanky bronze hair and a tanned complexion, even though the relaxed setting of the picture his eyes were flicking every which way like they were about to be attacked. The girl on the other end of this way was a normal looking blonde with regular brown eyes. Her hair was short, only reaching the top of her shoulders.

Robert had been about to ask about them when there was a herd of footsteps coming down from the stairs and Malcolm and Robert ran down the stairs.

Robert set the photographs back down on the table and turned to greet his sons. Minerva had moved her paper off the table by the time Isobel had made it down the stairs and had begun to cook breakfast with the help of their house elf, Potts.

There was still some tension between Minerva and her mother, Robert noticed. They turned back to Malcolm's story of Minerva's last spectacular Quidditch game; she was the best Seeker that Hogwarts had ever seen, Dippet had said. Minerva had a slight smirk on her face as Malcolm dramatically described the four hours long game. They ate breakfast without any real drama, except for Robert Jr. spilling his milk all over Robert's head by accident much Malcolm's amusement.

This was supposed to be normal. This was how families were supposed to be, but this didn't feel right. There was something so wrong about this scene and Robert McGonagall could tell that his only precious daughter felt the exact same way.


	9. Chapter VIII: Christmas Wishes

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. I was blown away by the response to the last chapter, especially with the love from ****alyssanicole420****, ****Fandomology****, ****teosinte**** (who always makes sure to leave a review), ****Duncan Idaho Atreides****, stormtrooper1 (who's always great), and CrazyLovingMMAD Fan who I sadly distracted from their college readings (that made me smile). This chapter has some softer moments, but don't be fooled by fluff. Foreshadowings and plot arches are at work here. There are two more chapters before we move back to Hogwarts. Let me know what you think. Enjoy and please review! **

_December 25, 1953_

Christmas morning had begun with Minerva being awoken by her youngest brother. She had fallen asleep in the sitting room, making more notes and corrections to her beloved Transfiguration notebooks.

"Minnie! Minnie get up! It's Christmas!" Robert Jr. had been screaming at her and she rubbed her eyes and twisted her neck from side to side working out the uncomfortable kink in it from sleeping upright.

"All right," she said slipping out of the chair. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" She pulled a white silk dressing gown over her flannel sleeping shorts and tee shirt and followed her youngest brother into the sitting room where a large Christmas tree stood in the corner with all sorts of colorfully wrapped gifts.

"Happy Christmas!" she greeted the rest of her family as Robert pushed her into a chair. Her father smiled as he watched her sit down in one of the chairs, perched on the edge like a posed cat.

Her brothers were already plowing through presents and Minerva slipped onto the floor and took the red and crimson package.

She knew this had to be from Alastor. The Gryffindor intention was all too clear. She smiled to herself. If Alastor had his way, she'd be in the mighty Slytherin House with him and Tom. Minerva opened the package to find a small spiky handwritten note sitting on top of the wrapping paper. She smiled and read.

_Thought you would be needing these since the last ones were wearing down after kicking our butts so many times out on the pitch. Don't know what I'm going to do when we're out of Hogwarts and don't see each other every day. Anyways, here I am being all sentimental, I better see you at the New Year's party. Constant vigilance while traveling!_

_Happy Christmas Min baby. _

_Alastor_

Underneath the wrapping paper were custom made Seeker gloves. They were standard black leather with crimson accents. On the back of the left hand was a lioness embroidered with gold thread. She was striking and beautiful and crouching down like she was stalking her prey. Her tail flickered ever now and then. On the right was her name with the same gold thread and script M's.

"Whoa! Minnie! Minnie, lookie at the lion! Rawr!" he imitated the lioness.

She chuckled as Robert Jr. slipped the gloves out of her hands and sat watching the lioness, his new set of enchanted blocks forgotten.

Arabella had given her a very large and heavy book titled "A Guide to Medieval Sorcery" with a heartfelt card with a photo of the two of them in their first year of Hogwarts taped to the front.

Minerva received a new set of dress robes in deep emerald green from her parents and a silver, intricate Celtic knot bracelet from Ryan. She got an assortment of candy from her brothers (which she knew she was quickly going to give off to Arabella and Ryan as she detested sugar) and "Quidditch through the Ages" from her Quidditch team. The cover page read:

"_To Ace, love your Gryffindor Lions (Squeaks, Pooky, Shark, Tiny, Flash, and Frog)." _

She smiled at the thoughtfulness of her team. Four of them were leaving this year and three of them had played together since her second year.

They were the best Quidditch team Hogwarts had seen in year and many were carefully being looked at for professional offers. With two Chasers like Squeaks and Pooky and an unbeatable Seeker like Minerva, they rarely lost a game.

She smiled and set the book on top of Arabella's. Minerva watched her brother play with his own broomstick and giggled when he fell off and landed loudly and painfully on his butt.

Robert Jr. was playing with his boxes and enchanted blocks that Minerva had enjoyed casting bouncing charms and enlarging them to different sizes and textures.

There was only a square box that left and Malcolm handed to her. She suddenly felt self-conscious with everyone watching her open it. She knew it was from Tom. He always wrapped his gifts to get in newspaper, a private joke between the two about her reading habits. When she managed to carefully undo the sticking charm, what she found was a notebook.

With black leather and little gold ends, she smiled softly. On the front cover was the words TRANSFIGURATION were imprinted on them with nice neat letters. Every few seconds a ting gold snitch imprint would fly around the words and the "TRANSFIGURATION" would turn to her name, Minerva M. McGonagall. She was touched and it showed in her face as her eyes brightened.

She opened the notebook to see small lines and room for her details diagrams. On the first page which was blank other than a date line she read carefully.

_My Minerva,_

_Happy Christmas. _

_I hope you like it. The charm was a rather tricky entity to get just right, but when it was finished I knew it looked just like you. I can't comprehend that we have somehow managed to get to the end of our seventh year together. It feels as if yesterday we were little second year arguing over whether or not Charms was an individual branch of magic as we collided going opposite ways in the hallway. I'm thankful that we did, even if you cursed by hair purple because I almost made you late to class. _

_I'm sad that it's almost time for us to leave home and go out into the world, but I know that whatever endeavors pull us away, whether it be our studies or our careers, that we'll always find each other once again. _

_I'm pleased to have finally found someone who sees the littlest details and minutiae of the world around us in the same way that I do. It makes me feel like I am finally not so alone anymore. Thank you for a friendship that I know is one to last against all odds. It is a gift that I will treasure deeply. _

_Yours forever, _

_Tom_

Robert McGonagall didn't miss the almost undetectable blush that made his daughter's pale cheeks become even more opaque.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

The rest of the day went by smoothly and it wasn't until after dinner that mother and daughter were left alone. Her mother was tending to the fire place, trying desperately to light a match to get the kindle smoking.

Minerva watched her mother for a moment. She clutched her Transfiguration notebooks close to her chest and debated going back to the sitting room.

"Need some help?" Minerva asked softly.

Her mother jumped slightly and her curls had fallen out of their placed pins. She straightened up and took in her daughter's form for a moment. "Uh, sure."

She wiped her hands on her pink apron and moved away from the fireplace. She handed off the match book towards her daughter and Minerva made no move to take it from her.

Not moving any closer to the fireplace, she drew her wand and flicked it towards the fireplace once. A sharp crackling of the fire lit the room and bathed the dim light room with waves of warm light.

Minerva didn't miss the look of irritation and was that anger in her eyes. She placed the box of matches up on a shelf and Minerva watched her for a moment.

"You're rather attached to those notebooks of yours. Are you writing any other papers soon?" Her mother voice sounded hoarse and so unlike her normal silky one when speak to her brothers.

She had turned her back to Minerva and began washing the dishes by hand in the sink.

Minerva's shock that her mother knew about her Animagus paper was conveyed with two quick blinks before she recovered. "I just finished my paper for the Department of Experimental Charms and Magic and Professor Dumbledore and I are working on two other thesis ideas," she said carefully, watching her mother for a reaction.

She nodded dully. "Are they going to publish it?"

Minerva nodded once. "The first editions are out. It'll be printed for the public in a few weeks or so, yes."

The feeling of awkwardness didn't fade and there was an untouched silence. Minerva was about to open her mouth, but then thought better of it and closed it.

"What are you thinking about Minerva?"

Isobel turned around and looked her daughter in the eyes. Minerva averted her green eyes and set her notebooks on the table. Her brought her hands together behind her back and seemed almost nervous.

"I don't understand," she responded, choosing her words carefully.

"Understand what?" There was a tone of impatience in her mother's voice.

"Why you would completely give up magic and then turn your back on us."

The pot Isobel was washing clattered to the floor. Mrs. McGonagall made no move to pick it up. Even with her back now facing her, Minerva could see her mother was struggling to form words.

"I didn't turn…turn my back on anything," she stuttered out. Her hands shook and Minerva frowned, remaining calm despite the whirling emotions she was experiencing.

"What do you call locking your wand and spell books in a trunk under your bed?" she countered. Her tone hadn't changed; it was still calm and smooth.

"How dare you think-you-you could possibly understand-" Isobel struggled for words. She had picked the pot back up and turned to face her daughter.

"I don't understand. That's why I'm asking. Professor Rose said that you graduated top of your Charms class and had an opportunity to work for the Ministry, why give all of it up?" Her voice was still calm, quiet, with no trace of emotion at all.

"I fell in love, Minerva! You know the rules of the International Secrecy Law!" Isobel hissed, not nearly as composed as her daughter. Her face had become blotchy and red.

"That Law was cancelled thirty years ago! Why act like you're a Muggle? Why waste a gift and act like it doesn't—" Isobel cut Minerva off harshly.

"I know my place Minerva, perhaps it's time you learned yours!"

Robert heard the commotion and was walking into the room in time to hear the last part of the conversation. He watched a flash of hurt echo across his daughter's face and she turned to leave the room, when he caught her in his arms.

"Minerva, Minerva, talk to me," he started, but she twitched slightly in his arms and with a quiet pop vanished. A silver and gray tabby cat stood in her place as she athletically moved away from him and up the stairs.

Robert turned to his wife with wild excitement in his eyes. "Did you see that? Our daughter just turned into a cat! A CAT!"

Isobel was wiping her eyes on a napkin and turned away from her husband. "Minerva's seventeen years old, Robert. It's not normal and it scares me. Albus Dumbledore may think it's extraordinary and should be explored, but it's strange and not usual. They shouldn't be encouraging it."

"Why are you so afraid of our daughter, Isobel?"

Isobel McGonagall didn't answer and slowly turned back to her dishes. Robert looked at his wife for a while and turned on his heels and saw the flicker of a tail as it went up the stairs. He felt like crying. Minerva had heard the whole conversation.

He slowly went up the stairs and found Minerva's book ridden room empty. Malcolm's room was also vacant. He was slightly nervous and found Malcolm sitting in a chair in Robert Jr.'s room. Robert was playing with his blocks on his messily made bed. Sitting on the comforter with him was the tabby cat that was his daughter.

"Daddy look! Minnie's a kitty! Hehehe!" Robert Jr. laughed. Robert made a move for his sister's tail which she swung out of his reach at the last moment. He giggled and lunged for the tail again.

There seemed no end to their game until Minerva seemed to grow tired and folded her tail underneath her body.

The cat turned her face up and looked her father directly in the eyes. There was such a look of loss and sorrow that her green eyes seemed to be coated in a golden gloss of tragedy. He shook his head quietly to himself. He prayed that there was a hope for her to be happy aside from looking for that happiness in others.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

It wasn't until later, much later, that she found a tiny scroll of aged paper on top of her meticulously made bed, resting on the pillow.

A gentle smile graced her face as her pale fingers untied the silk, scarlet ribbon around it.

She didn't need to read the script to know who it was from.

The paper was aged and creased, its golden ink faded. Centered on the page was four lines.

_In the Darkness, she was the light of Defiance_

_For she is not only the Ferocity of a Lion,_

_But the Freedom of Flight, such of a Dove_

_Knowing, the bravest of all acts is not Valor, but Love_

Beneath it stood a note in a different script, one with a flourish and purple ink.

_This reminded me of you, my dear, in the growing times of darkness and trouble ahead of us. Just a little something to soothe you when fear comes calling. Your light always shines, Merry Christmas._

_A._


	10. Chapter IX: Dougal McGregor

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. The more reviews I get, the faster I update! This chapter ties in some info from Pottermore, which is pretty awesome, you all should check it out! After you read the new chapter that is. Next chapter we meet back up with the gang. Thanks for all the continual support and feedback. Let me know what you think. Enjoy and please review! **

_The Day Following Christmas, 1953_

Minerva felt very out of her element and it frustrated her that others could make her feel so very uncomfortable. The Christmas celebration was held at her father's church.

After the service a party was held in the normally vacant ball room. Conservative classic music played and it was decorated with shiny red and green decorations. Three Christmas trees were in the front with fake presents under it.

The minister's daughter being home from her elusive boarding school for the first time in three years was cause for a lot of unwanted attention. There were a handful of others her age and they had all grown up together in the vicinity of the town.

What began to scare Minerva was how very much alike they all looked with their fair skin and light hair. Their cheeks were tinged pink with the atmosphere of the party and the glasses of champagne in their hands.

The girls wore variants of pink and white dresses with modest necklines and straight blonde locks of hair. The boys wore almost identical suits that still had a bit of dust collecting on them from their year of being put away in the closet.

Minerva attracted even more unwanted attention with her dark looks and laced dress. It was one of her more Muggle dresses with a beautiful navy color and spider web thin fabric, reaching only mid-thigh. She and Arabella had gone shopping in London after school got out and found it one of the little quaint shops. The sleeves were three quarters and they set off her shoulders, accenting her elegant neckline. On her collarbone sat the necklace she had received from Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel for her birthday.

"I heard she's a witch or sorts," one of the girls whispered to the small crowd, "and that they send her away because she's cursed."

"Please Mary Ellen, a witch? I heard that Minster McGonagall has to send her away because she's possessed by the Devil, meant to seduce men and steal their souls. I mean with the dark hair and pale skin you could see that right?" The boy that was speaking was looking her up and down like an item for sale at the General Store.

"I heard that too! That's why they had to send the younger brother away, to make sure he wasn't possessed too."

Minerva turned away and tried to force her cat like hearing senses to stop working. They couldn't know she could hear them, it was no different from the gossip that circulated Hogwarts, she told herself. Perhaps because she wasn't at Hogwarts where she felt safe and at home that was the difference.

"Hello Minerva darling!"

Minerva stored away the conflicting emotions and words from the group into their own little box, filed away in her mind for further examination later.

She forced a smile onto her face as her father made his way over to her. "Da," she greeted him. Robert brought Minerva into his arms and kissed her lightly on her forehead.

"How are you?"

"I'm well, that sermon was beautiful," she said smoothly, prying her eyes off the watchers. Robert looked in the direction his daughter's eyes had just flashed and felt a pang of protectiveness and a little rage envelop him. He knew the rumors surrounding Minerva and they had always made his heart pang with pity and anger.

"Thank you, dance with me?"

She complied and after a few moments he took her away from the prying eyes of the children her age and introduced her to a few of his congregation.

"Harris, you remember my daughter Minerva?"

The older man smiled and took her hand. The woman next to him, presumably his wife smiled kindly towards her.

"Yes, of course, who could forget such a beautiful face," he said. Minerva smiled softly in response and her father's hand stopped before it reached her back, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to do such an action. Instead he withdrew it and folded them together in front of him.

An image from her fourth year flashed before her eyes.

_She and Dumbledore were standing before the Minister of Magic, the man towering over both the ninety pound girl and the tall, thin wizard. Dumbledore's hand had rested on her lower back, a comforting and protective presence that seemed to make her feel much more safe. _

"_Minister, this is my most brilliant student, Minerva McGonagall." _

"Your father said you're top of your class at that school of yours, Miss Minerva, what an accomplishment. Congratulations!"

Minerva's eyes shifted to the woman in a powder blue flowered dress with white daisies and she reentered reality.

"Thank you," she said politely.

It was late when Minerva returned to her spot by the windows. She had playfully danced with Malcolm who had insisted on waltzing her around the room like he was a bigheaded king and she was a princess, spouting off silly phrases like "King Malcolm insists my lady" and "head up Miss McGonagall or the tiara falls!"

The group had returned to a close proximity and Minerva knew she shouldn't torture herself more by listening, but she couldn't help herself.

"I mean what kind of name is Minerva Marie anyway?" One of the girls sniffed haughtily. Minerva remembered her name being Kate. "I mean look at what's she's wearing! She's in a church for heaven sakes!"

Minerva always knew she was beautiful. The stares from males of all ages when she passed had begun far before she had started Hogwarts. It wasn't high on Minerva's list of things she wanted people to notice about her. She had always been more proud of her other accomplishments, her other skills than her beauty; her Seeker skills, her brains, her animagi transformation, her Gryffindor pride, her magic. She had no control of her looks. They were something that was always here, Minerva had no say about them.

"I think she's hot," one of the boys said and shortly after Minerva recognized the sound of one of the girl's hand colliding with what she suspected was his cheek.

"Hello everyone," greeted a male voice. Minerva turned slightly to find an attractive boy, maybe a year old than she, walking towards the group. He was tall, taller than Tom for sure, with short military cut white blonde hair. His skin was deeply tanned by the sun and muscle budged from the underneath of his suit.

"Hi Dougal," one of the girls said quickly and flirty made Minerva want to gag.

A few of the others greeted him and he turned slightly and Minerva's senses found him looking at her intently. "Who is that?"

"Minister's daughter," the same girl spoke, the smoothness in her tone changing to disdain and jealousy. She moved and the clicking of her heels on the floor told Minerva she had moved closer to the new boy.

"She came back from the boarding school?" Dougal asked interestedly. "Why didn't you invite her over here?"

"McGregor, man, haven't you heard the rumors?"

"Yeah, we were just talking about them," the girl said quickly, "she's not safe. Apparently her parents sent her away because she's a witch and possessed."

Dougal laughed loudly. "Seriously? You're going to believe all those lies? I've heard she's smart and goes away to a gifted boarding school."

"No one else thinks that, Dougal. I mean look at her! She's here to seduce men and steal their souls for the Devil! That's why they choose to get rid of her!"

"I am really ashamed to say I know you lot sometimes," he said and Minerva knew he had walked away. Little did she realize he was walking towards her.

"Hello," he said cautiously. Minerva gracefully turned and gave him a small but guarded smile.

"Careful," she quipped, "come any closer and I might steal your soul."

He flushed slightly pink, but didn't seemed deterred from her. "Please, my soul is yours for the taking," he returned dryly.

She laughed lightly, enjoying the battle of words. "I'm sorry; they're not normally such prats, well actually, yes they are. I'm Dougal McGregor."

"Minerva McGonagall," she returned.

"And so Lady Minerva, tell me about this boarding school you disappear off to all the time?"

They talked into the night; Minerva surprised herself by enjoying the cleverness of his responses and the honesty of his words. She was inexplicably reminded of her conversations with her own Tom Riddle.

She conceded to a dance or two and they were light and cheerful. It was well into the morning before he made his leave from her.

"Farewell, Minerva McGonagall, I hope to see you this summer," he said gallantly. She smiled and nodded silently, not promising to make her return to this house with her parents.

"Goodbye," she whispered. He leaned forward and chastely pecked her cheek.

"Happy Christmas, I thank you for returning my soul to me in good health, possibly in better shape than it was in before you took it."

Minerva giggled simply and held her hand up in a wave, knowing that while she despised Divination that there was a strong and powerful force known as Fate, and she suspected it was what brought Dougal McGregor, the local farm boy, to her side that night.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Isobel McGonagall knew she had no right to snoop around in her daughter's belongings. She told herself that every mother had a right to go through her only daughter's belongings but it didn't ease the guilt. Minerva was asleep in the sitting room, her Transfiguration books spread out across her lap and a quill draped in her fingers.

She opened her trunk and noticed her clothes neatly folded and her books stacked away. A book sat on the nightstand titled Secrets of Master Level Transfiguration. She cracked it opening and noticed Minerva's tiny script in every available passage break and margin.

She closed the book and replaced it on the nightstand. The bed was made, she noticed with a raised eyebrow. Her daughter was as neat as ever.

She moved over to the minimalistic desk in the corner and noticed an open letter lying near a bottle of ink. She picked it up and read in medium size curved writing.

_My Dear Minerva,_

_Don't think on anything the Muggles had to say. What little they perceive themselves to know of our world is formulated in arrogance and stupidity, and it should hold little value to you._

_I did so enjoy your Christmas present and I was happy to hear that you liked yours. I thought of you when I saw it and I hoped it would make it to Scotland on time. Owls here in London are hardly a common sight so one must be cautious among the Muggles. _

_I am homesick for Hogwarts as well. It was sharp at first especially when I would wake up to the city and not the warmness of the castle, but it seemed to dull (thankfully) after a few days, though I doubt yours has. Now it's back as painful and sharp as ever. I will be happy to go back soon. I cannot bear to think of what we'll have to do next year without being there all year together._

_I hope you and your mother are on better terms thus far into your vacation. Do not think that I did not notice your avoidance of the subject in your last letter, Minerva, I know you far better than that. I know going back distresses you, but I hope things have gotten better. I truly do. _

_I find myself running short of parchment at the moment. I look forward to seeing you at the New Year's celebration. Until then I find myself rereading our correspondences often. _

_I miss you. _

_Tom_

Her hand shook a little as she tore her eyes away from the paper. This was too personal. She shouldn't be reading this. This was private to Minerva.

What frightened Isobel was that she learned more about her daughter out of a letter from this Tom than she had in the last three years for her daughter.

Tears streaming down her face she replaced the letter and left the room, trying to stifle any noise that could wake her children.

She had stopped crying and sobbing by the time she reached the master bedroom. She had come to one inevitable conclusion, Minerva was hurting, she had caused it, and now Minerva was too afraid to let her close enough to try and mend it.

She was a terrible mother.


	11. Chapter X: Steal You Away

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. I can't believe we have reached chapter ten! I'm so thankful for all the interest, support, and love for this story. I really want to write all the way through Minerva's life even up to Deathly Hallows. The more reviews I get, the faster I update! I love the interaction between Minerva and Tom in this chapter. Let me know what you think of their relationship. Thanks for all the continual support and feedback. Enjoy and please review! **

_New Year's Day 1953-1954_

Minerva decided she would much rather apparate to Kelsie Appanatis' summer home because Floo would have gotten creases and ashen all over her party dress and the imperfection of it -would have simply been unacceptable.

Truthfully, she was thrilled to be leaving her family home and be heading back to Hogwarts within the week. After the argument with her mother and listening to the conversation with her parents, she had spent most of her time with her brothers.

Malcolm had enjoyed learning to fly his broom outside near the water, though he kept telling her that there was no way he'd ever be as good as she was.

Robert Jr. seemed to enjoy his sister's company much more in cat form than human form. The curiosity was something he found greatly amusing and exciting. His sister was a cat!

Her mother was much more distressed, Minerva noticed, but she hardly cared at this point. This was all too much to try and work through with one vacation. She wanted to be back in the safety of Hogwarts with her friends and Dumbledore.

"You'll be safe? Don't take drinks from boys you don't know?" Her father asked with a hand on her shoulder.

"Da!" she said, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't worry, Da, if anyone messes with Minnie then Alastor Moody and Tom Riddle will hex 'em!" Malcolm said with enthusiasm. Minerva smirked. "I like Tom."

Minerva smiled slightly. "Of course you do, Mac," she said and fashioned the last button over her overcoat, covering her dress from view. "All right, I will see you all at graduation and Mac we'll meet up at the Start of Term Feast, yes?"

Her brother smiled and nodded. There were slightly awkward hugs all around and they all stepped back a few feet, leaving her clear room for apparition. She pulled out the photograph of Kelsie's summer cottage from her pocket and focused on the image (she had no prior knowledge of what to picture for the apparition) and closed her eyes. She was gone with a pop.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing a dozen or so yards from a fancy white cottage. It was dark outside and checking her watch it was only half past ten. And the stars were particularly bright. Loud music and bright lights could be seen from outside the house.

She took a deep breath and made her way towards the door. She greeted the people on the porch and one of her fellow seventh years from Ravenclaw took her jacket. She wore a shorter dress with a silvery green corset of sorts that faded into darker green and black ruffles as it draped down her thighs. She had the Flamel's necklace on as well as Ryan's Christmas bracelet. Simple pearl earrings descended down and stood out in her thick, dark curls.

She reached to knock on the door but before she could hit the doorframe, it opened and a voice boomed out as she walked in. "WHOO! YEAH BABY! THE HEAD GIRL HAS ARRIVED!"

Minerva felt herself blush slightly as the cheers seemed to overwhelm the music. Groups of people surrounded her and Minerva couldn't make sense of all the sentence and words at once.

"Hey Head Girl—"

"McGonagall, about the Quidditch ga-"

"Have a good Christmas, Minerva?"

"I heard your paper is being published! Congra-"

"Baby, you wanna dance?"

"Hey, McGonagall I was wondering…"

"Hello Minerva! It's great to see you!"

She was very thankful when a pale, slender hand took her wrist and pulled her slightly away from the crowd. Tom Riddle had always had a flair for subtleness. His cool ashen arm snaked its way around her waist and he smiled charmingly at the crowd.

"All right, everyone, calm down, there's plenty of the Head Girl to go around. Meanwhile, I'm going to have to borrow her for a little while. Thank you all for your consideration."

Minerva laughed quietly as she let Tom lead her away from the crowd. "I missed you, Head Boy."

"As have I, Head Girl," he returned the banter with a smooth smile. Sitting near the edge of the dance floor was their table, she assumed as Ryan, Alastor, and Arabella were thrown around it casually. She could tell by their faces that they were all catching up from over the holidays.

Tom and Minerva made their way over towards the table and Arabella's head turned and her face broke out in a smile big enough to engulf the entire room.

"Minerva!"

The smaller girl was nearly toppled over by the larger one and Arabella swung her around and around in circles. "I missed you! Happy New Years! How were your parents? Did you and your mom make up? Did your dad and you have that talk? Did you like your Christmas gift? I found it at Flourish and Blott's ages ago and thought of you. I loved the jacket! I can't believe you bought it without me knowing!"

Tom's thin eyebrows shot up and he pursed his lips, clearly amused. Minerva playfully glared at him because responding. "Missed you too, Ari. Ditto. Fine. No. No. Yes. I know."

By the time Arabella had let go of her, Alastor's heavy arms wrapped around her. "You came!" he said gruffly. She smiled and nodded simply.

Ryan rose up from his chair and casually made his way over to her too. He wore the top half of a tuxedo, the shirt and black jacket, but wore a pair of Muggle jeans instead of dress pants.

Arabella's dress captured the dim lighting with ease; the thousands of red sparkles crackled in the light. It was so very much over the top that Minerva felt she would go blind if she stared at it long enough.

She moved tilted her head slightly when she realized Ryan was kissing it. "Missed you," he whispered softly in her ear, "come on, let's dance."

Minerva was about to protest—no, I'm a terrible dancer—but she quickly decided it wouldn't be worth the energy to fight. Ryan's hand caught her wrist roughly and led them to the dance floor.

The dance for a while, longer than Minerva would have liked, but eventually, much to Miss McGonagall's relief, Kelsie found them.

"Minerva! I'm so happy you're here!"

"Hello Kelsie, Happy New Year's."

Kelsie Appanatis, sixth year Ravenclaw and girlfriend of prestigious Tom Riddle, was a rather simple person. A white dress with a vast about of purple rhinestones and a head full of strawberry blonde hair, she seemed to be on the same scale with Arabella on beauty. Her blue eyes were magically induced and they seem to change color in different lighting. (The curse of using magic on yourself, she claimed.)

Though Kelsie was a welcome person in their group, she was not a regular member and Minerva secretly thought Tom liked it that way. There was nothing more than a casual relationship there. He had once told Minerva that he enjoyed having a girlfriend because he had something to say to the girls when they threw themselves at him. Minerva laughed and told him that she very much understood.

"Come on, there's some people I have to introduce you too, relax Ryan," she snapped towards a clearly unhappy Ryan, "you can have her back when I'm finished."

With that she pulled Minerva quickly behind her. She quickly dragged Minerva over to a threesome of witches. They were all blonde, blue eyes, with similar purple dresses.

"Minerva, these are my friends from Beauxbatons: Violet, Jane, and Anne Moreau. Girls, this is Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Head Girl."

The first girl, Violet, extended her hand. "Bonjour, je suis enchante," Minerva said, without a trace of her Scottish accent. Violet and her sisters looked positively speechless and the eldest beamed with surprise.

"Finally, somezome oo can speak our language," the second sister spoke. "Your Francais iz tres bien."

Minerva smiled softly. "Merci beaucoup."

The third and youngest sister finally spoke. She looked to be only a little older than a fourth year. "'ave you viseeted our country before, Minerva?"

"I studied in France two summers ago actually, in Transfiguration."

There was a sudden flicker of recognition in the oldest girl's face. "Ah, yes, you're that girl, an, an… how you say in it English?"

"Minerva's an animagus, Violet!" Kelsie said with excitement.

"Ah yes!" she said quickly with a smile. The conversation went on for several more minutes before another set of foreign students came to converse with them.

It was well after the midnight countdown and toast that Minerva found herself without the constant introduction of new face and new names.

The party seemed to slow down after the toast and the groups of people seemed to taper off as the hours into the morning grew.

She was watching the others around her, ever the attentive one, until she felt a cool hand on the small of her back. "Arabella, Alastor, and Ryan went ahead to our room. We're on the top floor. I told them I'd stay down here and make sure you weren't hexed, or poisoned, or anything."

She smiled and took the glass of wine Tom handed to her with a nod of thanks and turned back to watch the dancers. "Looking for the secrets of life again, Minerva?"

"No, I'm just watching," she said.

He smiled coolly and watched her closely for a moment before asking, "And what do you see?"

Minerva didn't turn her face to look at him. She shifted her weight slightly and reminded herself that if anyone would understand what she saw, it would be Tom.

"I see colors," she answered honestly.

"Colors," he repeated and then nodded calmly. "And what are these colors doing?" She watched the dancers on the floors for a moment.

"They're running into each other like wet paints, not changing, not smearing, like … oil and water dancing with each other."

She waited a few silent moments for Tom's response. Even in the loud blaring music, there seemed to be a muted silence around the two.

"I see," he said thoughtfully after those moments, "and what colors are they? Reds? Greens? Blues?"

"They're mixtures of colors," she said, her eyebrows connecting for a moment, thinking. "More than one for each person, like the painter couldn't make up his mind."

"Most people are indecisive on where they stand in life. They live simply in the moment and have no plans for where they stand and where they will stand in the future. I suppose it's only right that they cannot be assigned a simply, pure color," Tom said, a somewhat accusatory tone in his words.

Minerva watched the others for another moment before turning towards Tom. Her dress moved with a regal flourish. "I'm sure the others are waiting up for us. We should probably head up there."

Tom studied her face and Minerva suddenly felt slightly self-conscious. His dark eyes shifted from the bridge of her nose, to her high cheek bones, across the curve of her lips and ended up looking deep into her green pools of eyes.

"No, I think they can wait a few more minutes," he said, easing the glass out of her fingers and setting it with his own on an empty table, all while not breaking eye contact.

He took her left hand and bowed low over it. "Do you think I could steal you for a dance or two, Head Girl?" Minerva smiled brightly.

"I believe it would be only right, Head Boy," she replied, allowing him to lead her onto the confetti covered floor. The music slowed almost magically.

Dancing with Tom was not the same as dancing with Ryan. Tom was much more accomplished at making her feel at ease. There was a certain level of tranquility, a familiarity with Tom Riddle that made her feel safer. A quietness that seemed to touch both of their souls and connect them into one.

There was a slight awkwardness when dancing with Ryan. He attempted to lead the dance in a way Minerva was unfamiliar and unsecure with. Tom merely wrapped his arms snugly around her waist and allowed her to set the pace. Melting into the rhythm, she folded her arms around his neck and let him twirl her around the dance floor.

"What about our colors?"

Minerva tried to focus, but Tom twirled her around quickly, in an almost teasingly manner, making her smile. "I'm not sure," she answered faintly.

"Aw, come on, Minerva. What color am I?" Minerva couldn't concentrate with him spinning her around in circles and picking her up off the ground along with the music.

"I don't know, Tom, what color am I?"

"You're the one seeing the colors instead of people, Min," he teased, slowing down the dance ever so slightly after seeing her very flushed and rosy cheeks.

"But you understand," she insisted, "so you go first and tell me."

"All right," he conceded and he studied her again. The song changed, but neither one seemed to noticed it. "You, Minerva McGonagall are pure red."

He caught her skeptical looks and continued on smoothly. "Not like a fruity red, but like a deep dark red, like … _Gryffindor_ red. Red the color of blood, the color of courage, of _passion_." He paused, gauging her reaction. She was conflicted, unsure just how much about this passion he could see behind her cool, aloof demeanor. "Because though you have so many other completely fooled by that _'everything is perfect'_ masquerade, I can very clearly see the intensity of the passion beneath your eyes."

Minerva wrinkled her nose. "Red the color of rage, the color of longing, of _tragedy_," she continued for him. "If I am red, then you, Tom Riddle, are pure purple."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He twisted her around gracefully and she elaborated. "Dark purple, the color of wisdom, the color of ambition, extravagance, and of mystery."

"Purple, the symbol of arrogance, of suspicions, of stressfulness," he continued off.

She interrupted him. "Purple, the color of royalty."

Tom's smirk caught her off guard. "I guess you've heard of my plans to overthrow the Wizarding World and rebuild it my way then, my dear Minerva."

Minerva wasn't sure if he was pulling her wand or not, so she just smirked. "But when I do, you are welcome at any time to come and be my very red Queen and rule beside me … after you're done playing hero that is."

"What about Kelsie?" she asked smoothly.

"What about Ryan?" he countered matching her all too smooth tone and Minerva just smiled and raised one eyebrow.

There was a peaceful pause in their lull of conversation until Tom thought of a final question for her. The song ended smoothly and the lights seemed to get darker, signaling it was time for everyone to head to their rooms upstairs.

Struck with the question, Tom took her hand and she stiffened a little under the suddenness of the touch. His cool fingers seem to brush over the ashen, papery skin.

"What are our colors doing, Minerva?" he breathed just before the lights shut off completely, ending the party.

Standing in the darkness, Minerva could feel the heat from Tom's body standing just before her. There was a heartbeat before Minerva's lips answered.

"They've collided."


	12. Chapter XI: Welcome Home

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. We get back to Hogwarts this chapter, spend a little time with Poppy, and have some fun in the snow. Next chapter we get back to the whole Tom/Minerva drama. Thanks for all the continual support and feedback. Let me know what you think of the chapter! Enjoy and please review! **

_January 1954_

The rest of the holidays quickly passed without Tom or Minerva bringing up their dance together. They knew better than to mention it in front of the others who wouldn't understand in the same way they did themselves.

When they apparated with a loud pop, all five appeared right outside the gates of Hogwarts, holding hands. Minerva opened her eyes to see a beautiful blanket of snow covering Hogwarts' grounds.

"Welcome home, Min, Tom," Alastor said, squeezing her hand. Minerva smiled and followed her friends up through the snowy path.

"So I heard that we get to practice dueling, this semester in Defense," Kelsie said as they trudged through the snow. Minerva felt Tom's eyes on her and she turned to meet their darkness.

"Sounds like fun," he said, with a small smile, before tearing his eyes away from her and sliding his hands into his jacket pocket.

"Fun for you and Minerva maybe," Moody grumbled, "sucky for the rest of us who don't happen to be our resident spell geniuses."

Minerva and Tom rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Hey, guys," Arabella said, stopping short in front of them. Ryan, not paying attention to Arabella in front of him, crashed into each other and landed in a blanket of snow.

Both sat up, freckled with snow, and glared at each other. "Oh it is so on," Ryan growled, shooting to his feet. "All right, two teams. Minerva, Alastor and I are one team. Arabella, Tom, Kelsie, the other. Positions everyone. Last team standing claims the victory."

"Hold up, how come you get Minerva and Alastor!" protested Tom as the rest of his team scampered away, taking their base behind a band of trees.

"This is war! Roll with the punches, Riddle," called Alastor as he and Minerva retreated behind a rock near the lake. Everyone pulled out their wands and snowballs began to pile up around them.

"On three!"

Tom glared and took up the leader position in front of Ryan. "One," he said, testily, wand curling defensibly around his wand.

"Two."

"THREE!"

Red sparks shot up into the sky and Ryan and Tom sprinted back to their bases. Only seconds later the first snowball attack was an attack wave from Minerva and Alastor's rock base.

"Get out of range!" Arabella shouted and the three scattered. Snowballs from the other team came from all three directions, but they didn't seem to affect the other group.

"What's the plan, Min?" Alastor said as he ducked one of Tom's more well placed shots.

"We're going to move and pick Kelsie and Arabella off first. Ryan, Alastor, you guys have left, I'll move right. Ready? NOW!"

The actions were almost too fast for Kelsie to see. She was knocked back with such a force of snowballs that all she could see was white.

"One down, Min!" Alastor shouted as they made a tactical retreat to regroup. Tom growled in frustration and ducked down near the edge of the lake. He had to eliminate Minerva.

He flourished his wand and flicked once. A hundred snowballs in a perfect line shot towards her. Ryan tipped her off at the last second and she cast a red rebounding curse. Tom hit the ground just in time to refrain from being hit. Arabella scream and shot once well aimed medium sized snowball at Ryan which caught him on the side of his face and sent him sprawling.

Tom hooted and Alastor grabbed Minerva, allowing her to narrowly miss Tom's giant snowball. They disappeared into the tall grasses near the lake.

"Ari, get over here!" called Tom and she moved out to crouch next to him.

"What's the plan, T? Minerva and Alastor could cream us," she whispered. Tom's dark eyes peered out, looking for signs of movement.

"I have it all under control, here's the plan…"

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

"Armando, come look at this," Catherine Naye said from the window in the staff room. The Headmaster looked up from the Daily Prophet and moved to the window with Jason Rose, the Charms Master.

Outside in the courtyard near the Black Lake was Minerva McGonagall. She and rest of her group were playing the strangest game of snowballs that the teachers had ever seen.

The use of magic was startling. Minerva and Tom sent waves of snowballs at each other and the opponent would melt them or even reverse them.

"Ouch!" Professor Rose said as Ryan Garrett was taken out by a large snowball from Arabella's wand.

Naye shook her head. "McGonagall's launching a strategic military attack," she said with a slight tone of admiration in her voice.

They watched the snowballs cease for a moment and Minerva and Alastor disappeared into the tall grasses near the Black Lake.

There was a bang and Tom and Arabella burst forth in attack, launching a huge ten foot snowball at the rock. Minerva was able to divert it away from her path and jump out of the way, but Alastor was too slow and was thrown backwards.

Arabella shouted something, probably in triumph, until Minerva conjured a wall of snow in front of her, smacking her right in the face and knocking her into the ground.

Tom jumped out of the way as Minerva launched another wave towards him and then both moved back out of range. Dippet was positively beaming and was watching with excitement.

"Think Riddle's going to win?" Rose asked, watching him mutter spells under his breath at a medium sized snowball.

"Nah, McGonagall's going to surprise him," Naye said with confidence.

Dippet raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips to keep from smiling. "There he goes…oh, he can't find her…where is she?"

"Up in the tree," answered Naye, nodding to the thin form maneuvering her way up the tree. "He's going to be in for a nasty shock."

Tom crept forward, looking every which way until his snowball began to smoke. All three teachers began to chuckle and the chuckling turned to laughter as the snowball exploded, knocking Tom over in the snow with a head full of snow.

Minerva seemed to be rather amused with herself and hung down in the tree to smirk at Tom. Tom scowled and shot a red stream of light into the tall tree.

The limbs shook violently and Minerva was knocked off. Naye gasped as the dark headed girl dropped from the tree and fell down into the snow.

To their surprise, Minerva's broken form was not what they found in the snow, but an upright dark and silver tabby cat. The Charms Professor swore under his breath. "Well bloody hell," he said, running a hand through his hair. "She's really an animagus."

The cat athletically shook the snow out of its fur and made a jump towards the frozen top of the Black Lake. Tom was grinning wildly and quickly followed her.

"What? Did you assume Dumbledore would just make something like that up?" snapped Naye.

"I know enough about Dumbledore not to assume anything," Jason Rose said quickly.

"I think I'll go ahead and take that as a compliment, Jason."

The three turned around to see a smiling Dumbledore walking into the room. "What are we all watching?"

"Riddle and McGonagall having a snowball fight with their posse."

Dumbledore chuckled and turned to cradle his cup of hot chocolate and watch as Riddle ran after Minerva who had slid around carefully on the ice in cat form.

Meanwhile, neither witch nor wizard noticed their Potions professor, Horace Slughorn, making his way slowly up the grounds with a briefcase in his hand.

"Oh! Look, Horace is going to get a lovely surprise." The group cackled with laughter as the snowball meant to hit Minerva struck Horace right across the face, knocking the man over into the snow, his briefcase flying.

There were identical looks of horror on Minerva and Tom's faces. They sprinted over to the Professor, their game forgotten, and Minerva popped into human form. They helped the Potions' back onto his feet and their friends had moved over towards them. Though, the teacher's noticed that they stayed a good three feet away from the others.

Slughorn seemed to be laughing it off and Tom smiled charmingly and spoke for a moment. Minerva summoned his briefcase towards them and handed it to Slughorn, her pale cheeks opaque with embarrassment.

Slughorn just laughed again and nodded to Garrett, Figg, and Appanatis. He put a hand on Minerva's shoulder and moved quickly towards the door.

Tom took a step towards Minerva and both turned, watching the Professor make his way up towards the castle. The teachers quieted for a moment and watched as Arabella slowly sank to the ground and levitated a snowball, hurling it right at Minerva.

The Seeker quickly ducked out of the way, allowing the snowball to strike Tom Riddle right in the face. He looked positively furious and the sight of him glaring from his snow kissed face made Minerva crack up in hysterics.

The teachers chuckled and moved away from the window. "Welcome to the second term, Professors. I have a feeling it's going to be an exciting one."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

"What about this one?"

Minerva sighed and leaned back on the chair she was sitting on. They had been at this for the last four hours. Hogsmeade was beautiful over the Christmas break with a fluffy layer of snow atop the streets and houses.

Poppy shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Her short bronze hair was sticking out from every direction with little red slashes on her cheeks indicating her frustration and fading excitement.

Shopping for bridesmaid dresses shouldn't be that hard. Minerva could conjure something priceless in the time this was taking.

"No, no not this one," Poppy was saying, "It has to match the place settings."

She couldn't hear the reply from Michael Bennent's sister, Lucy, not that she cared to. Michael had expressed interest in Minerva before leaving Hogwarts, still very young at the time, Minerva brushed him off. There was something about him that she didn't like.

He was on the shorter end, almost as tall as Poppy herself with rather plain brown eyes and short cut dirty blonde hair. There was nothing extraordinary about him really other than his obnoxious interest in healing. But seeing her friend so happy, Minerva wisely bit her tongue and went along with the procession.

"What do you think about this one, Mina?"

It was two and half hours later that they left the Gladrags and made it back to Hogwarts. It was only three days until term started. One thing was for sure.

When and if she ever decided to marry she wasn't having a big wedding or perhaps a wedding at all. She was sure her husband would understand.


	13. Chapter XII: Do You Have Any Aces?

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Happy Thanksgiving week everyone. I'm so very thankful for all my wonderful reviewers and readers, especially Amazing Stella, CrazyLovingMMADFan, stormtrooper, Guest (you know who you are), Fandomology, kamehouse6,shadowkitty723.** **I've really been enjoying this story. A nice long chapter with some time with both Tom and Albus. We also encounter Hagrid for the first time! Enjoy your holidays and please review.**

_January, 1954_

Most of the Prefects and previous Head Girl and Boy detested one thing about their badges: the midnight patrols. But the current Head Boy and Girl were the first to actually enjoy the nightly walks.

Minerva and Tom walked down the third floor corridors with their wands out. The corridor was empty and dimly lit and the portraits were all sleeping noiselessly in their frames.

"Slughorn is beginning to grate on my nerves."

Minerva's laughter was beautiful in the stillness of the hallway. "So your favorite teacher is actually annoying when he isn't fawning all over your every move?"

"Watch it Minerva, my potions grades are only second to yours," he said, "and you better look out, I'm gaining on you."

Minerva simply laughed again. "You're only jealous because I was right…again."

"You're _always_ right Minerva, that's what is so bloody frustrating!"

Minerva playfully glared at him and said, "I heard he's getting all these Ministry people to try and steal you."

Tom snorted. "Go fish."

Minerva's smiled dimmed slightly and the two feel into a comfortable silence. The silence between her and Tom never bothered Minerva. There was nothing awkward about it. It was often because both Seventh Years were simply lost in the labyrinths of their minds.

"Minerva do you know what the worst crime a man can commit is?" Tom's voice was as smooth as ice on a table top, but the words he spoke were sharp and hot like fire.

Minerva side glanced at Tom with a frown on her lips. "What kind of question is that?" she asked. Her eyes captured the moonlight from the windows in an eerie reflection.

Tom shrugged charmingly and smiled at her. "Just a question, what's the worst crime you could think of? I asked Alastor and Ryan this morning, but I want to know what you think?"

Minerva shifted slightly away from the warmth of Tom's body and thought for a moment as they continued to patrol. "I'm not sure, that's not something I think about very often."

"Think for me, Minerva, then you can forget about it."

"Unlikely."

There was another shorter silence before she finally decided. It was difficult to surprise Tom Riddle, but he was pleasantly surprised with the feeling.

"Betrayal."

Tom's eyes glimmered with a darkness she'd didn't like. "Curious. Not murder like Alastor thought? Not theft like Ryan said. Betrayal. Minerva, you're full of surprises."

"What did you think?" she asked carefully calm.

"I would have to agree with you. Though taking a life ends one, but think how many people care after their dead. Betrayal is like…death by a thousand paper cut. If you really want to cause someone pain, you shatter what they know the best. You kill them from the inside out. _You can break them._"

Minerva shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself and Tom quickly noticed the response. He smiled smoothly and changed the subject. "I heard that someone got an acceptance letter for the Auroring Academy yesterday night. Care to shine any light on the rumors?"

Minerva smirked.

"I did," she said carefully as they rounded a corner. Tom smiled and loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to go?" he asked, curiously.

"I haven't decided anything or the committee of pestering me about what I'm going to do after Hogwarts would have been informed, Mister Riddle," Minerva snapped playfully.

Tom laughed. "Is that so, Miss McGonagall? So then it's still possible for you to come with me where ever I'm going and research Transfiguration until you're heart's content?"

Minerva's cheeks flushed slightly under the sharp lights from their wands. "Go fish," she said quietly, but Tom kept smiling.

"So you're not going to give me any hints then what's going on in that mind of yours?" he asked.

Minerva paused at one of the windows and looked out. She then let out a frustrated, "I wish all of you would just let me be Minerva."

Tom didn't miss a beat and moved a curl from her eyes. "You _are_ Minerva, but the rest of the mere mortals just want to know where you're going so we can plan accordingly," he said breathlessly. She paused for a moment and began walking again for a moment and Tom stood in front of her. She stopped before running into him.

Minerva turned her face away from his and set her eyes down the hallway. "What's going on Minerva?" Tom asked, putting a hand on her arm.

"Nothing," she said stiffly and moved out of his reach. "Come on, it's almost two a.m., we're almost done."

"Minerva," Tom said, his tone changing to become sterner and he sprinted to catch up with her. "Minerva, stop!" She obeyed and Tom helped her sit down against the wall.

Rubbing small circles on her back, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Minerva, _my_ Minerva, what's going on. Talk to me," he whispered. Minerva's small body shook slightly as she leaned against him. "Did I do something? Did Ryan? I'll kill him-" but Minerva shook her head.

"No, I'm fine, everything's just a little stressful," she whispered back, but there was that agony again in her eyes. Tom knew that wasn't true.

"Don't lie to me, Minerva, I can see right through it. Talk to me, please?"

Tom let the silence grow and continued to coax the words out. "Do believe people can be mistakes, Tom?"

The question caught him off guard. "Do I believe people can be mistakes?" he repeated the question and Minerva nodded once. She blinked quickly and moved her eyes from his face, an emotional gesture that was equivalent of Arabella bursting into tears.

Tom frowned and ran his free hand through his hair. "No, I don't think so. Everything happens for a reason I suppose, we each have our own role to play…"

"Even if people weren't supposed to be born in the first place?" she breathed, "babies that were the results of rape, and affairs, and accidents." Tom paused and his own mother flashed into his mind. "They weren't supposed to be born. Do you think that makes those people accidents, mistakes?"

"I don't know, Min," he said eventually, "I don't think so, even if they weren't planned, they happened. Minerva, what's brought this on?"

"I- did you see that?"

There it was again, a flash of purple light around the next corner. With the third flash Tom and Minerva were on their feet rushing towards the scene and sounds of a struggle were getting louder.

"—filthy half breed!"

"Help! Please somebody!"

"You killed people!"

Minerva out ran Tom by a few seconds and with a resounding bang from her wand, the three boys were separated. Tom flicked his wand and the hallway was quickly lit up with a bright light.

"What's going on?" Minerva demanded. All evidence of her being emotional was gone. Tom marveled at those tiny little boxes she stored everything in.

There were two Slytherin boys, still in their uniforms, and a third boy who Minerva quickly recognized as Rubeus Hagrid, the boy accused and expelled for the Chamber of Secrets being opened.

Tom looked outraged beyond words.

Rubeus Hagrid sat on the ground, his face bloody and bruised. His clothes looked slightly ripped and tattered. His scruffy black hair was matted with blood and his coat was in shambles.

The two Slytherin boys seemed unharmed except for a ripped sleeve and one black eye.

"He attacked us," the first Slytherin Boy said in disdain. He was blonde and crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Minerva.

"I did not!" the fourteen year old Hagrid defended. The boy looked close to tears. "I was jus' delievering these scrolls ter Pr'fesser Naye and they came ou of nowheres an attacked me!"

"What are you doing here, Hagrid?" Tom interrupted harshly. Minerva turned slightly and saw the rage behind Tom's eyes. His hand was clamped tightly on his wand.

Hagrid's eyes lit up in a fear that made Minerva nervous. "Pr'fesser Dumbledore made 'rangements fer me teh help out with Ogg as Game Keeper."

"Outrage," growled Riddle and moved forward a few steps.

"Tom," Minerva said, grabbing Tom's arm. "_Tom_. Stop it!" These words made Tom lower his wand move back. "All right, ten points from Slytherin for fighting and five for being out after hours." She let go of Tom's wrist.

"What about him?" growled the second Slytherin.

"Yeah, how come you aren't punishing him? It's because he was a Gryffindor. All you lions are bloody biased!"

"Watch your tongue, Mister Malfoy," growled Tom, defending Minerva without a split second hesitation.

"I'm sorry," the blonde Slytherin said quickly in Minerva's direction and cringed back at Tom's glare. "Please forgive my outburst."

Minerva brushed the forced apology off. "I'll escort Mister Hagrid to the Hospital Wing, you take them back to the Common Room," Minerva suggested to Tom, motioning for Hagrid to get up.

"Minerva," Tom began crossly, grabbing her wrist. "I'm not okay with this. He's dangerous."

There was a flash in Minerva's eyes and Tom trailed off, letting go of her wrist quickly. "I'll be fine. Stop being overprotective! I can take it from Alastor, but if you start too, I'm going to lose it."

"Be careful."

"Goodnight Head Boy," Minerva said turning towards the opposite hallway. "I'll see in the morning."

"Sleep well, Head Girl."

Tom nodded curtly and hauled the other students towards the Common Room. "I don't want ter go ter the Hospital Wing again. Please, I'll be fine. Yeh're not going ter tell Master Ogg I got inte a fight are yeh?"

The boy quivered and Minerva stopped walking. "No, but you need to be more careful walking around by yourself. Two against one could cause a lot more damage in an unused hallway." Her green eyes scanned over his face and he tried to smile.

"Come on, if you won't go to the Hospital Wing, then I'll get you all cleaned up."

Minerva turned left and they descended to the first floor. Minerva led Hagrid to the Transfiguration classroom. She opened the door with the password and held the door open for Hagrid.

Sitting up on one of the desks, Hagrid looked much younger than fourteen. Though he was large and burly, his eyes and face still held his childlike features. "Why are yeh helping meh?" he asked timidly.

Minerva smiled and the effect seemed to calm the boy. "I'm Head Girl— it's my job, Mister Hagrid."

"Jus call meh Hagrid, everyone else does. That's not wha I meant. Yeh could have dumped meh off on the grounds, but yer helping meh, why?"

Minerva paused for a moment and conjured a bowl full of water and a cloth. She began to lightly clean the wounds covering his face. "Perhaps, I think you were falsely accused. Contrary to popular belief, Hagrid, I don't think you hurt anyone."

Hagrid seemed to quiver at this. "Why would yeh think that?"

"I like to read," Minerva said quietly, "and what I've read on the creature you had that supposedly petrified people has no such powers. It couldn't have hurt anyone like that."

His large hand came to rest on Minerva's. "Thank yeh," he whispered and Minerva smiled.

"Don't mention it. You look like you need a friend, Hagrid," she said, watching him for another moment before continuing to heal his face with her wand now.

"Yeh wouldn't like being friends with someone like meh," he mumbled.

Minerva crossed her arms, slightly offended. "And why not?"

"Because yer Head Girl and everyone knows yer going to get a fancy job and help lots of people. Yer the smartest student here and yeh win all sorts of awards for yer magic."

"What does that have to do with who I choose to be friends with?" she protested. Hagrid blushed and turned bright red. He shrugged.

"Tom Riddle wouldn't like yeh bein' friends with meh," he mumbled under his breath.

Minerva's eyebrows contracted. "What do you mean?"

Hagrid shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of the Head Boy. "Riddle used to threaten folks he didn't like to stay well away from yeh. Yeh two are awful close and things..."

"Tom doesn't get to decide who I'm friends with, Hagrid," she said quietly. "I would consider it an honor to consider you a friend Rubeus Hagrid."

A tear escaped down his cheek and Minerva couldn't help but feel a touch of sadness. He leaned down off the desk and pulled her into a hug that lifted her well off the ground.

"All right, let's get back to your face, yes? So you're helping Ogg on the grounds," she said conversationally. He nodded eagerly.

"Pr'fesser Dumbledore he set it up. Ogg he-" Hagrid was cut off by a scuffling outside the door. Minerva had her wand raised within seconds.

"Get behind the desk and stay down," she commanded and moved behind the door. Two voices outside the classroom got louder as the door opened and Minerva flew out, almost hexing Professor Dumbledore.

"Minerva, is everything all right?" Dumbledore's eyes widened as Minerva appeared behind the door with her wand raised. She lowered it quickly when she caught sight of him.

"Professor! I'm sorry, I thought you were another student," she said, quickly. Dumbledore chuckled lightly and moved into the classroom followed by a younger looking man with bronze hair and a thin goatee.

"Had to break up a few fights tonight, Head Girl?" She smiled slightly and nodded.

"Just the normal six or seven, sir," she said teasingly. Her eyes flicker to the man and Dumbledore turned and smiled.

"Ah, introductions, Pierre, this is my most brilliant student, Minerva McGonagall. Minerva, this is my old friend, Pierre Benoit Senior, the French Head of Defense."

The man extended his hand and Minerva smiled and took it. Instead of shaking it, the man kissed the top of it in a very old fashioned gesture. She was quickly reminded of Nicholas Flamel.

"Bonjour, ma chere," he greeted with a charming smile.

"Bonjour, je suis enchante," she replied automatically. The man beamed.

"Ah, an animagus and bilingual," he said with a slight accent, turning to shake his head at Albus. "No wonder Horace was so upset you stole her first, Albus."

Dumbledore was about to reply, when Hagrid jump to his feet, loudly bumping into the desk. "Is it safe ter come out?"

Dumbledore's eyes flew back to Minerva and the bloody cloth and bowl on one of the desks. "An accident?" he inquired to Minerva.

"An _incident_," she rephrased. Dumbledore got her meaning immediately and nodded. "But we were just heading back down the Ogg's house, weren't we, Hagrid?"

Hagrid nodded quickly and waddled out from behind the desk and out into the hallway with a small wave. "And then to bed, correct, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked with a knowing twinkling in his eyes.

"Of course, sir," Minerva said with a smile that said they both knew that wasn't happening. She waved her hand and the medical supplies vanished.

"Goodnight, Professor, Monsieur Benoit," she said with a smile and nodded towards the man and turned out into the hallway with Hagrid.

"Goodnight, my dear."

They moved swiftly towards the Entrance Hall but not before Minerva heard Mr. Benoit's voice. "…better watch her closely, Albus, she's quite a prize to be won."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Minerva found a note taped to their normal table in the library when she arrived. It read:

_Minerva,_

_Ryan and Alastor have Quidditch this morning and Arabella said she was going to ask Rose some questions about the essay. I'm in the back of the restricted section._

_Come find me. _

_Tom._

Minerva smiled and slipped the note into her back as she shifted through her notebook for her Restricted Pass. Professor Dumbledore had given her a permanent pass in her fifth year for their different Transfiguration projects over the years.

She flashed the pass at the door knob and it quickly let her in. Minerva closed the door softly behind her and moved to find Tom.

He was sitting, his nose almost touching a thick volume in the back of the room. Rows and rows of thick, ancient texts lined the walls. The smell of old books was a welcoming and comforting smell to the seventeen year old Head Girl.

"Hello Head Girl. I see the oaf didn't murder you in your sleep," Tom said in greeting.

"No, it seems your initial hypothesis was proven false, Head Boy," Minerva countered sliding into the chair beside him. "What are you working on?"

"Just looking at some spells," he said dismissively. "Actually I was hoping we could continue our conversation yesterday before we were so rudely interrupted."

Minerva's eyes flashed and she straightened in her chair, a clear indication that she was less comfortable than she's been seconds before. "Which conversation are you referring too?" she asked, airily. Tom frowned and closed the book with his parchment inside of it.

"The one where you were upset, asking me if I thought people are mistakes."

"I thought we ended that conversation," she said, her words sharp like glass. Tom's eyebrow rose in response to the tone.

"We did not," he said smoothly. "You were about to tell me what had upset you."

"I was not and am not upset!"

She had become withdrawn and Tom could see she was going to retract within seconds if he didn't reach out and stop her. Her face had become expressionless, the lines in her high cheek bones more pronounced. Minerva began to look more like her counterpart the goddess of war.

Tom just gave her that look that told her he didn't believe in that façade and Minerva glared at him, folding her arms across her chest. Tom was lucky enough to be versed in the art of word wars and mind games. "Okay, then why can I see that fire raging behind those very green eyes of yours?"

"I-" she trailed off and Tom smirked in triumph.

"Come on, Min, I know I'm not Alastor, but talk to me anyways."

Minerva shifted her gaze and stared into the books. "I received a letter yesterday morning," she said simply.

"From anyone special?"

Minerva's hand shook for a moment as she reached into her school bag and brought out a piece of Muggle paper. "From my father."

Tom glared at the paper as she unfolded it and laid it out for him to see. He slid it over and began to read, growing more and more appalled by each word.

_Dear Minerva. _

_I hope this post finds you. I wasn't sure it this bird could find Hogwarts. I'm sorry to say that your mother and I are at a parting of ways. I recently discovered a series of letters and photographs from a man describing an affair and child that he shared with your mother. These letters date back to the summer of 1934. At the time I was at a Minister's Conference in London for a few months. Until this time I never knew about this man. _

_Upon confronting your mother, I learned that you're not my daughter Minerva. We're not related. Your mother and I are going to court for the custody of your brothers, but you being of age, Wizarding standards aside, should be able to live your life unaffected by their decision._

_I am unsure how to tell Malcolm and I was hoping you could gently break the news to him. I always prided myself on being honest and truthful in our marriage and I had hoped your mother felt the same way. Unfortunately I was mistaken. I enclosed a photograph of the man with this letter. You'll find you share a startling resemblance to him. _

_I am sorry, Minerva. _

_Da_

Tom's hand shook with rage as he folded the letter back up. Minerva had become still and stared at the books. "Swear to me you won't tell anyone, Tom."

Tom opened his mouth to object, to talk about it. Minerva's eyes had become icy, defensive. She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her knees and brought them to her chest like she was physically protecting herself from the thoughts, from what all that meant.

"Minerva, I'm sorry—"

"_Swear to me, Tom_, no one can know."

He hesitated and made a final decision. "I swear, Minerva."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Albus Dumbledore knew there was something wrong when he purposely said the incorrect thesis and his apprentice didn't correct him.

Looking over the top of his half-moon glasses, he watched carefully for a sign that said there was something amiss. Her uniform was crisp and unwrinkled; her hair was pulled away from her face with its usual grace and beauty; there wasn't a sign she had injured herself at Quidditch practice; nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until he looked at her eyes. The emeralds were lacking their normal shining brilliance.

"Minerva?" he said carefully. Her eyes flickered from the top of the book in her lap to find his. "Is something the matter?"

"Albus, what do you know about Rubeus Hagrid?"

Dumbledore smiled, knowing there'd be a question about the half giant at some point during their lesson. "Not very much," he said regretfully, "Hagrid was thirteen when the accusation was made and he's since turned fourteen. He's a half giant and his father died shortly before the accusation was made against him. He didn't have anywhere else to go so I thought having him here with Ogg would be a solution for everyone. He has a love of magical creatures and the outdoors."

He watched Minerva's mind quickly absorb the information before speaking again. "I don't think he hurt anyone," she said quietly, "and for some reason I don't think you do either."

Dumbledore smiled brightly. He leaned back in his seat and nodded. "You are correct, my dear," he said carefully.

"Is there anything we can do about it?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his auburn beard moving slightly. "No, unfortunately the attacks stopped since Hagrid was apprehended and the monster taken care of. We'd have no leg to stand on even if we did find the culprit."

Minerva nodded with a thoughtful frown. "I'm surprised though Minerva," he said gently, "Tom Riddle was the one who apprehended Hagrid and turn him in."

Minerva's eyes flashed dangerously and Dumbledore quickly realized this and began to build a tactical retreat from the subject. "Just because Tom and I are close doesn't mean everything he does, says, or thinks is right," she said, slightly defensively.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "I agree. No one person can always be right about everything. Tom Riddle is no exception."

"But you don't think Hagrid is dangerous to himself or others?" Dumbledore shook his head and Minerva nodded almost to herself and looked out to the window that looked down upon Ogg's house.

"It's sad how fast people will turn on each other because of something they cannot control," she said quietly and Dumbledore heard a tone of sadness in it that one could only equate to experience.

"I suppose it's what makes loyalty one of the finest traits one can have," Dumbledore remarked thoughtfully, "for we only know who really cares for us when the times are hard and the stakes raised."

They fell into another moment of silence and Minerva turned back to the large volume in her lap. They continued on for another half hour or so until Dumbledore large clock rang eleven o'clock.

It was then he noticed that not everything Minerva had said was entirely what was bothering her.

"Minerva, are you sure nothing else is wrong?"

Her eyes moved off his twinkling blue ones and found the window pane and Dumbledore could clearly see an inner conflict raging in the seventh year.

Slowly her hand reached into her jacket pocket and she brought out a photograph. She placed it on the desk in front of him and slid it to him.

"I was right."

Dumbledore looked down at it to find that it was Muggle photograph of a man, maybe in his late twenties. His face was pale and shadows danced around it. He had a head full of messy dark hair, the same shade as Minerva's. The man had a slight bit of dark stubble on his cheeks and thick eyebrows. His cheekbones were slightly elevated and an average nose separated two very green eyes.

This man was very obviously related to Minerva.

For once, Dumbledore had to ponder his words carefully. Minerva was not an ordinary girl; she reacted differently in every way he could imagine; _the gift and curse of brilliance_.

"Do you know who he is?" he asked quietly and for a moment Dumbledore could feel the waves of emotions that was flowing around the girl.

Minerva's face remained impassive.

Albus was continually astounded by the emotional self-control this seventeen year old girl had. "Yes," she said simply, "do you remember Septimus Weasley who graduated two years ago?"

Dumbledore nodded sharply.

"He owed me a favor from his school days and I had him find this man. I extracted DNA out of my hair on Wednesday and sent it to him. Aiden Borchean. Age thirty six. He's currently living in Aberdeen, Scotland. Was married two years ago and has three daughters: Beatrice, Fiona, and Wendy. All non-magical."

Her tone wavered at the end of the last sentence and Dumbledore watched her intently with sad eyes. This child can't catch a break. She deserved a break from being attacked every which way. What hurt more was he couldn't protect her from all of it. He couldn't take away all the pain.


	14. Chapter XIII: Family

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. For Stormtrooper: I love all the questions about Minerva's mum and the affair. More answers will be coming, not only in part one, but the rest of the story. Thank you for the wonderful questions and ideas! They always make me smile. Let me know what you think of Alastor's perspective and a longer chapter next time. Please review.**

_Early February, 1954_

Alastor Moody was born with a limp. It never really bothered him. He didn't really need to run with Quidditch and it never hindered him handicapped. He always shrugged it off and had gotten used to the pain at an early age.

Born into the highly respected pure-blood family, Alastor had known he was supposed to be an Auror in the womb. His own father was an Auroring as was his father and grandfather and great-grandfather.

It was just simply how it was.

Alastor had met Minerva McGonagall on their first day on the Hogwarts Express. He lovingly remembered finding a small dark haired girl sitting in one of the last train cars, her nose stuck in the biggest book he had ever seen.

She looked up and smiled at him with the most beautiful and kindest smile he'd ever witnessed and when his eyes met her, Moody immediately knew that he would get along very well with this young witch.

"_Hello," she said eloquently, "I'm Minerva." _

_He forgot how to speak, but grinned and blushed. "The names Moody. Alastor."_

"_Pleased to meet you."_

Later into the ride the door opened a second time and another young first year boy stumbled in. Tom Riddle with his dark hair and dark eyes and his oh so very charming smile.

Since then the tree of them had been inseparable. One was usually not seen without the others. Alastor was very disappointed when Minerva was sorted into Gryffindor, but they were together so much more of the time, it was hardly hindering. Minerva never saw their House differences as a rivalry. She'd been a hatstall, fitting into each house, but eventually being won over by Godric Gryffindor's lions.

Hogsmeade was an escape for Alastor. He enjoyed Hogwarts and enjoyed being away from his demanding family but the castle was not _home_ in the same way it was to Minerva and Tom.

"What's new with you, Min, baby?"

Minerva walked in step with him, her emerald green cloak over her uniform and her hair put away from her face in a French twist.

"Nothing much, just thinking," she said with a warm smile. He grinned back and they marched to their normal spot up on the hill overlooking Hogwarts' ground.

They had managed to get away from Tom, Ryan, and Arabella for a little while and travel by themselves with a promise to meet back up with the group in an hour or so in Three Broomsticks.

"Do you ever stop thinking?" he teased as Minerva cast a warming spell on their bench and they sat down together. She smiled sadly and shook her head.

"Never," she said breathlessly in the cold. Her pale cheeks were tingling and red from the cold's breath on her cheeks.

"Minerva," he said in the most serious tone he could manage and she turned to look back at him with the use of her full name. "What's up with you and Tom?"

Alastor knew he had picked a difficult question as she looked away and watched the people playing on the grounds in what was left of the snow.

"Honestly, I don't know," she answered, her voice carefully neutral and calm, "why?"

He shrugged it off and played with a loose string on his back jacket. "He seems at peace with you," he said, matching her careful tone. "I know you don't love Ryan."

Minerva flipped her gaze back to him abruptly and opened her mouth to object or make an excuse he didn't know, nor did he care, and he waved her down dismissively.

"I don't care, Min, I don't like him with you either. And I know Tom doesn't love Kelsie. So what I don't understand is why you two don't...you know."

Minerva took a deep breath and seemed to calm all the thoughts in her head. It was typical for Minerva to pause before answering. It was her way of staying in complete control of every situation and every conversation. Something Alastor knew was crucial for her if he wanted her to be honest with him.

"I'm not sure, everything so stressed with N.E.W.T.S and job offers and classes and sometimes I just wonder if it would all just…shatter into a million pieces if I were to change anything. Tom and I are…" she shook her head, searching for a word, "…_Tom and I."_

Alastor chuckled at that though it was very true. He had never met a girl like Minerva. Often when speaking of her or about her, he and Arabella even Tom could find no one word to describe Minerva McGonagall. They just simply said she's just 'Minerva'.

That being said, Alastor had never met a soul like Tom's either. The two being together could cause mayhem and a storm at any moment. The powerful two could rub each other raw, but that was never the case. If anything the two seemed to feed off each other's power.

Minerva understood Tom in a way that he never could. Tom was a dark soul with a burdened past. Minerva understood that and didn't seem to care. Sometimes only Minerva could calm Tom down when it got bad and Tom lost complete control.

But Alastor was very proud to say that he was the one who was closest to Minerva. Nothing ever came between them. She and Tom argued and Minerva would refuse to see or speak to him for weeks. There was always a sort of comfort that Alastor had that made Minerva feel safe, a rare gift to hold.

"It's interesting to watch the pair of you. You move, he moves, you turn, he turns. It's like you're reading each other's minds."

Minerva smiled at that and spoke again, "Sometimes I wonder why we've never gotten together. It would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"Love doesn't have to make sense, Min," Alastor said quietly. His eyes moved from her to the group of third years walking down the road towards Honeydukes.

"Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me," Minerva said after another moment of silence. "I fall too fast, crash too hard, forgive too easily, and care too much."

Alastor shook his head and took her hand and squeezing it once. "Some would find those traits admirable, Min," he countered. She smirked slightly and shrugged.

"Some would, others wouldn't," she said with a tone of tragic finality in her words. "I just want everyone to be happy but someone's always getting hurt or falling behind…"

"You can't make everyone happy. You deserve to be happy too."

This shocked her into silence and they just sat there together in a comfortable silence.

This was family Alastor knew. Complete trust in another person. Knowing that they would always be there for you no matter how many enemies are standing against you and knowing that Minerva would always have his back put Alastor's soul at rest.


	15. Chapter XIV: Take Good Care of Her

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. I'm so disappointed about the lack of reviews and feedback on the last chapter. I'm so disappointed about the lack of reviews and feedback on the last chapter. Over a 100 views on that chapter and only two reviews? Come on guys? Did we not like Alastor's POV? Something wrong with the idea? Too short? Let me know what you think so I can better my writing and create a better story for all the readers. This is a longer chapter and another one of my favorites. Please, please, please review.**

_Early February, 1954_

"I can't believe we got off with just a project on a Dark Wizard of our choice for the rest the year in Defense!"

Arabella shrugged on her school bag as they made their way out of Naye's class and began moving back towards the garden for their free period before they split off for Potions and Charms.

"Who do you think you're going to do, Ryan?"

Ryan's eyes darted back to their conversation from glaring at the boys who were watching Minerva and he shrugged, non-committable. "I was thinking Alec Kaluza," he said.

They passed Dumbledore's classroom and turned to make their way out at the courtyard. Though it was still slightly chilly, the snow had long but melted from the grounds and new signs of spring life were popping up quickly all around the grounds.

"Tom?"

Tom pursed his lips as they all sat down under their normal tree. They were close enough to see reflections off the surface of the Black Lake, but not too far away from the Transfiguration Hallway. Other students milled around them, sitting on brightly colored blankets and chatting away.

Tom frowned for a moment before deciding. "Catherine Naye," he said conclusively and the others laughed, though Minerva merely smirked. "Nah, I'm thinking Jakaate Kanche. He invented A.K."

Arabella shivered and sent an ugly look his way. "I can't believe you can just through that around so…casually, T, it's so horrible."

Tom gave her the _"are you daft"_ look and turned towards Minerva for support.

Her dark hair was braided around her head in a beautifully soft crown and a few curls hung against her ashen cheeks. She had been unnaturally quiet after class and was leaning almost unnoticeably on the tree for support. Nothing else seemed out of ordinary; her uniform was unwrinkled, her shoes were on the right feet. There was nothing to indicate that she was out of sorts, other than the blank look growing in her eyes. Tom's eyes narrowed, watching her, before speaking.

"The power to cause pain, the power to kill and destroy, it defines those who can and _will_ from those who hide behind others like shields. It's a basic philosophy. Civilizations rise only to be taken down by others who are more powerful and more willing. It's a cycle. Those who can't adapt to the new society are weeded out until only the strongest remain," he said with air of superiority. "Minerva understands, don't you?"

Minerva blinked once and her green eyes seemed to clear. She nodded. "It's the theory of Natural Selection," she said, airily.

Arabella shook her head, hair flying into her face. "Sometimes, Tom, when you go all dark genius, you really scare me."

Tom made a dismissive noise and moved over in the circle to make room for Kelsie and her sixth year friend, Barty Crouch. Tom's eyes analyzed the way Barty seemed to sit close enough to Kelsie to brush her thighs.

Alastor shrugged off Tom's glance and focused on Minerva. He took seemed to notice the slowly exhausting look in her normally lively eyes.

"I think I'm going to go with Xiang Sae-Yin," he said, reverting back to their original conversation. "Min?"

"Gellert Grindelwald."

There was an untouched silence and Minerva seemed to recover quickly. "Grindelwald?" Alastor repeated the name, his eyebrows rising questioningly.

Minerva nodded simply. "Grindelwald."

"How are you going to do that when everything you have on him is speculation and newspaper articles?" Barty asked, impressed. "Won't it be hard?"

"This is Minerva we're talking about!" Tom said. "She won't try something unless the odds are next to impossible."

Minerva rolled her eyes at Riddle, obviously denying the statement and turned towards Arabella. "Ari?"

"Going with the dark seductress Majken Locke," she said excitedly. Then she laughed and turned her rosy cheeks towards Minerva with a gleam in her hazel eyes. "Actually, Min, she kind of reminds me of you. Dark hair, pale skin, beautiful, complete genius, top of her class, powerful beyond belief…"

She trailed off.

"Total nutter, though," Alastor pointed out making the others around him laugh and Minerva glared at him from the corner of her eye. He smirked back. "I mean look at the facts, Min, she discovered the Cruciatus Curse."

Minerva's straightened up and folded her arms over her chest. "Are you implying that I like to torture innocent people, Alastor?" Minerva snapped defensibly, the crackling gold in her eyes seemed to shimmer.

"Nice," Tom said appreciatively towards Alastor from the top of his notebook. "Now you've made the all-powerful Sorceress angry. Smooth Alastor, really great job."

Barty, who had sat with them on occasion, laughed slightly, but no one else seemed to join him. Kelsie leaned back, well out of the line of fire, and Arabella just smirked.

"That's not what I said," Alastor said, with his hand held out in surrender. "You must have heard wrong, Min, baby."

Minerva's fire seemed to be uncontained today and she glared at him. "No, my hearing is perfect, thank you, what you said was that I'm an evil, dark sedu-"

Minerva stopped abruptly and everyone flipped around to see who was shifting back and forth nervously behind them. The blonde haired boy seems to have been standing there for a few seconds, debating whether or not to actually come over and say something.

"Hi Malcolm," Minerva said, with a smile that hadn't been there moments ago. The others seemed to giggle at the young boy's nervousness.

He smiled shyly and opened his mouth but then shut it quickly. "Where's all that courage, Malcolm?" Tom asked, prompting the young boy with a small, charming smile.

He flushed red and turned towards his sister. "Minnie, can you help me with my Transfiguration homework?" he asked timidly.

"'Minnie', very cute, McGonagall," Kelsie teased with a smile.

"Aw, always the good big sister."

"Of course," she said to Malcolm, moving to get up. Once on her feet, she swayed alarmingly, her normally perfect balance faltering. Tom extended a hand up to steady her.

"Okay there, Min?" Alastor asked, concerned.

"I'm fine."

She followed Malcolm back a few feet where he was sitting with two other first year Gryffindor boys and kneeling down in front of what looked like little matches.

"I didn't know Minerva had a brother," Kelsie said conversationally. Alastor shrugged it off, watching Minerva's form attentively.

"She has two, but you wouldn't guess they were related," Tom said lightly.

"Why not?" Barty asked, interestedly. He had straightened his tie and smoothed his hair back, obviously at unease in the green grasses.

Tom glanced at Arabella who shrugged slightly. "Because they don't look anything alike…Malcolm and her youngest brother Robert look very…" he trailed off looking for the correct description, "very English and Minerva looked very…Celtic."

Barty's nose wrinkled and Tom's mind was throwing out every sarcastic and spiteful name he could call the dunderhead at the moment. How hard was it to see that there was obviously something different about Minerva and her brothers?

There was a quiet silence until Tom, catching sight of Minerva, jumped to his feet. Alastor, who had reflexes as quick as a cat's, followed him closely.

Tom reached Minerva before she collapsed. "Minerva?" he said, easing to the ground, her body in his arms. He shook her gently. "Minerva? Yep, she's good and out. Moody you owe me three galleons."

Malcolm's tanned face looked horrified. "Is my sister okay?"

Arabella's shocked gasp didn't help the situation that was already attracting a lot of attention.

Tom looked up at him and readjusted Minerva in his arms. "Yeah, she's going to be perfectly okay, Malcolm. You know how hard your sister works?"

"She never stops."

Tom and Alastor chuckled, amused. "That's right, well, after a while she kind of just shuts down, but Madam Lenus will have her all sorted out."

"Is she okay?"

Kelsie and Barty made finally made their way over and Tom was beginning to feel extremely claustrophobic with everyone in his way.

"Alastor, you owe Tom three galleons," Arabella said, smirking as Tom stood up, Minerva in his arms.

"Yeah, yeah," Alastor snapped.

"You guys bet on when McGonagall was going to collapse?" Barty said his eyes accusingly wide. "Did you drug her or something?"

Arabella snorted and shoved Tom forward towards the Hospital Wing. "You take her, Tom. Alastor, you go with him and I'll pop into her Alchemy class and tell Brooks she'll miss. Malcolm, you can go with them."

Tom nodded once and set off with Minerva in his arms. Malcolm scrambled behind him and Alastor easily kept pace. "Think Min will be up before we start dueling? Her last spell took longer to recover from than we thought?"

Tom shrugged and made a face. "Knowing Minerva she'll want to be out by the time her eyes open. Hopefully Lenus will release her earlier. She-" Tom stopped short and Alastor quickly knew why. "Hello Professor Dumbledore," said Tom, pleasantly.

Dumbledore's eyes widen seeing his apprentice lying unconscious in Riddle's arms. "Is she all right?" Dumbledore said, leaving his third year class behind and moving out into the hall.

"Minerva? Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine in a few hours, sir," Tom said nonchalantly with a charming smile. "We expected this last week, so we were amazed she was still walking around on Monday."

Dumbledore's blue eyes scanned through Alastor and Malcolm before resting again on Riddle. "We were just taking her to Madam Lenus, Professor," Moody said gruffly.

Dumbledore studied Minerva for another moment and Tom's eyes flashed possessively. "Don't worry, _sir_, I'll take good care of her."

Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed directly into Riddle's. "Make sure you do, Mister Riddle, make sure you do." With that he moved back to his class and Tom continued towards the doors to the Hospital Wing.

When they were far enough away, Tom growled in anger. "I hate that man!"

Alastor snorted and pushed the doors open and held them for Tom and Malcolm. "Minerva really likes Professor Dumbledore," Malcolm said timidly.

"Professor Dumbledore _really_ likes Minerva," Tom huffed as the doors shut behind him. Alastor shot him a glare and turned to look at the blonde headed McGonagall.

"Don't worry, Malcolm, Tom doesn't like Professor Dumbledore because on his first day of Transfiguration he accidently transfigure his match into a bird and let it fly out the window."

Malcolm giggled and seemed a little more at ease. Tom pushed past them and set Minerva down in a vacant bed just as Professor Naye and Madam Lenus came out of her office.

"Oh my!" Naye exclaimed, eyeing Minerva lying on the bed. She rounded on the other two boys. "What happened!" she demanded, waspishly.

"I-"

"Grab the vial, Mister Riddle, you know which one. Don't worry, Catherine, I was expecting Miss McGonagall any day now."

Madam Lenus used to be beautiful. Her tanned skin and blonde hair contrasted her now wrinkling skin and her hair had grown gray. Lenus' white uniform was crisp and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows.

"You were expecting her?" There was a slight tone of reproach in her voice.

"Not _again_!"

A third woman appeared and Poppy Pomfrey was not pleased to see Minerva again. The twenty three year Healer had been apprenticing to Lenus for a year and half and had graduated from the Ministry with honors. Her short bronze hair was pulled away from her face and thrown up out of her way.

"Again?" Naye repeated looking at both the women and then to McGonagall. "Will someone explain to me what happened to Miss McGonagall?"

Tom returned from the medicine cabinet and handed off an ugly colored potion to Poppy who bustled around Lenus and grabbed a needle from the corner box.

"There's nothing to be worried about, Professor Naye, we were expecting Miss McGonagall to collapse any day now. It's the cycle."

Poppy nodded as she was inserting a needle into her wrist and straightening the girl out in the bed. "She works herself to death and has the worst case of mental insomnia I've seen before."

"Why don't you give her a sleeping draught," Naye suggested looking around at everyone like they were idiots. Tom quickly noticed the charcoal smudges underneath her own gray eyes and wanted to suggest that she feed _herself_ a sleeping draught.

"Well, we had her taking one until an unfortunate incident where a boy who fancied her slipped some Weedorsos into it and she took ill," Lenus said, moving back to the medicine cabinet leaving Naye with the two boys and Poppy.

"If he fancied her, then why did he poison her?"

Alastor and Tom shared a dark look. "Minerva has a lot of suitors, Professor Naye," Alastor began, "and some of them don't take the rejection very well. But don't worry, we took care of it, didn't we Tom?"

Tom raised a dark eyebrow in response. There was an ugly look on his face.

"And then Professor Dumbledore got him expelled," Poppy continued, taping the IV with a piece of skelto-tape. "But now of course, she won't take any draughts unless she brews it herself and takes it immediately from the caldron. You can imagine how quickly that got old. So now she, _against all_ _medical advice_—mind you—decides she's going to work until she drops and leave me to clean up the mess!"

"That's unhealthy," Naye snapped reproachfully. Poppy snorted and went over to grab a heart monitor and attach it to Minerva's fore finger. "Which was why you were expecting her," she added, turning to look at Minerva's now sleeping frame.

"Correct," Lenus said, returning with a purple vial. "That's quite enough, you boys can go. You're late for class as it is. Mister Riddle, if you'll walk young Mister McGonagall back to his class."

Neither Tom nor Alastor moved back towards the door. "How long do you think you're keeping her?" Tom asked, politely, his hand resting behind his back.

"I haven't decided," snapped Lenus, wiping her hands on her apron. "It'll depend on how much she fights the draught. If she tries to sneak off for classes and Quidditch again, then I'm cuffing her to the bed post and keeping her until the end of the term!"

Alastor and Tom exchanged a look. "How long until she wakes up then?" Alastor asked. His tone was carefully light. Lenus turned back to the monitor and pursed her lips.

"Three, four hours at least," Lenus said impatiently, "I'm hoping to get her to take something to sleep through the night, but I doubt she'll take it."

"Wait a second, you drugged my sister!" Young Malcolm looked between Professor Naye, to the Healer, to his sister's friends with astonishment.

"Just relax, Mac, Minerva's fine," Tom said, putting a hand on his back. Malcolm glared at Tom and moved back out of his reach.

"So then we could by chance come by after dinner?" Alastor said innocently with a smile.

"Absolutely not and if I see anyone of you boys trying to sneak her school books or those retched notebooks of hers through the doors, windows, floors boards, or other students, I will personally come after you," she threatened, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Who? Us?" Alastor replied, cheekily. "Don't worry, we'll behave, Madam Lenus. Come on Malcolm, you have Herbology right now, correct?" Malcolm nodded once, still watching his sister's sleeping form. "Well let's get moving then. Bye Professor Naye. Bye Madam Lenus, we'll see you after dinner."

Tom followed the two out after a last glance at Minerva and closed the doors behind him leaving Professor Naye and an agitated Madam Lenus.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

"Going somewhere so soon, Miss McGonagall?"

"No, Madam Lenus," was Minerva's crisp reply as she and Poppy continued their game of chess on Minerva's bed. Madam Lenus pause for a moment, organizing her potions cabinet.

"Then why are you in your school robes this morning?"

"Because I'm not sick," she answered coolly, directing her queen to E6. "Checkmate. And I really should be allowed to go to classes today and go to my Quidditch game."

Madam Lenus glared at her and folded her arms over her chest and opened her mouth to tell her off. "Come on, Madam Lenus, if you make me miss any more classes, you're ruining my chance of getting a perfect score on my N.E.W.T.S."

Poppy watched the two with interest. She had packed away the chess game now and was watching the debate with a small smile. She knew just who was going to win this argument.

"Why on earth would you even think of trying to make a perfect score on your N.E.W.T.S? Its cause for even more stress," Lenus began with a groan. The woman dropped into a chair and rubbed her temples.

"Since I got a perfect score on my O.W.L.S, I'd really like the have the set," Minerva said tonelessly. Poppy couldn't help but giggle.

"How many N.E.W.T.S are you taking this year, Miss McGonagall?" Madam Lenus said, and Minerva knew she was in for a lecture.

"Ten," she said carefully and quietly. Her green eyes were downcast on the bed linens.

"Ten! TEN! Students shouldn't even be allowed to consider taking SIX N.E.W.T. courses, let alone ten! This is totally unacceptable. I'm surprised you're not dead yet!"

Poppy and Minerva shared an amused look. "Come on, Madam Lenus, please? I promise, promise not to overdo it at the Quidditch game and I'll even come back and let you check me back over!"

Minerva knew she had won the Healer over before the answer came. "All right, fine, get out of here and I better see you later tonight."


	16. Chapter XV: Bloody Dagger

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. I was so happy to read that everyone loved the last chapter! It's always been one of my favorites. Another long chapter this time and we see an altercation in Minerva and Ryan's relationship. Please, please, please review**

_End of February, 1954 _

The Gryffindor Common Room was ticking with excitement on their latest win, securing them the number one spot in the finals, thanks to legendary Seeker Minerva McGonagall and quickly wanted to celebrate, but thought they couldn't start without their captain.

The door to the common room opened and Minerva didn't get two steps inside before being picked up from the ground and thrust upon her two Beaters' shoulders. The common room cheer and music was loudly playing. The one person who was not in the mood for celebrating was Minerva herself.

"Put me down," she snapped towards Martin and Laz. "This is not dignified."

The quickly complied and she quickly but gracefully made her way up to the girls dormitory. For a moment there was only silence and then everyone began talking at once.

"What was that all about?"

"Is she all right?"

"I told you not to do that, Martin!"

"Did we not win after all?"

"What's up with her?"

"Did Dumbledore get sacked?"

"Shut up, Laz."

"Maybe she's just tired."

"Maybe she's just being Minerva."

"All right, that's ENOUGH! Leave Minerva alone and go back to your partying," Arabella Figg had shouted and climbed the stairs two at a time after her best friend.

She found Minerva sitting on what used to be her bed before she moved into the Head Girl suite, reading her Transfiguration Notebook. She sat down on her own bed next to Minerva's and watched her for a moment. "Tell me what happened, love."

Minerva blinked, but didn't look up from her notes. Her dark hair swept down off her shoulders and touched down on the paper.

"Nothing happened. Just not in the mood for celebrating, I suppose." Minerva knew that Arabella knew she was lying. Arabella paused for a moment and leaned back on her pillows.

"Minerva, take down the stone walls you have around you heart for a few seconds and tell me what's going on with you. I can't help if you don't share." Arabella watched the inner conflict rage in Minerva's eyes and for a moment, she suspect Minerva was going to brush her off.

"I'm going to break up with him."

The Head Girl had spoken so softly that Arabella had barely heard her. She slid down off her bed and clambered up next to Minerva. She wrapped an arm around her.

"What happened?" she whispered carefully. Arabella knew she was treading on dangerously thin ice. Minerva was perfectly happy to keep all of her insecurities and problems into tightly closed boxes until she could deal with them in an organized and private fashion. She wanted everyone to think that everything was fine and perfect when little ever was.

"They came to break me out of the hospital wing and once I was cleared Alastor, Tom, and Ryan were walking me back to the common room and I must have zoned out because Ryan suddenly grabbed my wrist, to get my attention I guess and I felt…"

"Frightened?"

There was a stillness that said everything Arabella needed to hear. Some of her friends were often worried about Minerva and Ryan. Minerva, though tall in spirit and powerful in magic was so very little and Ryan was very big, almost over six feet tall with thick strong muscles.

Ryan was not exactly gentle with Minerva either she had taken notice rather recently. He had never crossed any lines, but it was clear that Ryan Garrett was much more interested in Minerva's beauty than her personality.

"I'm going to break up with him." She had repeated it again, almost to reassure herself that it was the right thing to do. "I know what he wants and he's not going to get it from me."

"What about Alastor and Tom? What do you think they're going to do?" Arabella's voice was still quiet.

"Alastor and Tom were my friends _long_ before they were friends with Ryan, if they're truly my friends, and I think they are, then they shouldn't have a problem with it."

"You're right, as always. When are you going to do it?"

"Tomorrow morning."

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

Ryan Garret couldn't believe his ears.

"You're what?"

"You heard me," Minerva said. "I'm not going to put up with you anymore. It's over. Sorry, Ryan."

One of the students in the crowd that had gathered around them outside the entrance to the Great Hall started snickering. "Shut up!" Ryan snapped at him. His attention then went back to Minerva. "I don't believe this. You can't break up with me."

She nodded. "Oh, yes, I can, and I am. How many times do I have to tell you? We're finished, and that's that. Good-bye." She turned around and started to walk away.

Ryan was seething with anger. Never before in his life had he been publicly humiliated like this. She was not going to get away with this. He leapt forward and wrenched her back by the wrist. "One week," he hissed. "One week, and you'll come crawling back!"

"Get over yourself," Minerva replied, coolly, jerking her hand away. "I have."

"You think you're _so_ strong, Minerva, but I know you better than that," Ryan said arrogantly, "beneath that tough exterior, you're made of glass, and one day soon you're going to _shatter into a million pieces_."

This made Minerva turned back. She shook her head, curls flying. "No, I'm not."

"Oh yes you are. That's why you push everyone away. Eventually no one will be left and nobody will be able to fix you. You need me. You're nothing without me."

"I became everything I am without your help. I've never needed you to get ahead. That's not why I went out with you, and I can only hope that's not why you went out with me."

He narrowed his eyes at the insinuation of her words. "You're going to regret this. When you come to your senses, I won't come back."

Minerva had had enough of this conversation. She let out a fake gasp of excitement. "Really? You promise?"

Ryan did not have a lot of self-control as it was, and now, it was completely gone. He lifted his hand and struck Minerva across the face as hard as he could. It was only too late before anyone realized his wand had become a knife in his palm.

The crowd gasped as she stumbled backwards, a bright crimson slash appeared on her cheekbone, and gasped again when she recovered and a series of scorching green flames erupted from their air around them, throwing Ryan away from her.

Some in the crowd screamed.

The conflagrations were out as soon as they came, the only evidence they had been there was Ryan's smoldered hair and uniform.

He howled and lunged back at Minerva, a twisted look in his eyes, and Tom and Alastor jumped into action. Tom pulled, _threw rather_, Ryan away from Minerva and moved her back a few feet, encasing Minerva in his strong, seemingly unbreakable arms.

Alastor tackled Ryan to the ground, and kicked the knife from his hand. There the furious and heavier Alastor had him pinned down to the floor punching him violently.

This would have gotten uglier, no doubt, had a furious voice not stopped them then.

"Garrett! McGonagall!"

Students in the crowd pulled back quickly except for the four involved Catherine Nay stormed up to them. Catherine was never in a good mood, but even a bad day looked good compared to this. Her face was flushed, her entire body was shaking, and it appeared that it was taking a lot of effort to keep her clenched fists at her sides. Her dark blue eyes were more piercing than usual, and Minerva thought she saw tears of rage forming in their corners. None present had ever seen her so close to losing her composure.

Catherine gave Ryan her full attention. Alastor had gotten off him at Naye's request and only a few feet away. Ryan had his hand pressed to his lip to stop the flow of blood from Alastor and his hair was filled with ash, his hands burnt.

"One hundred points from Slytherin," Catherine said in a soft, trembling voice. "You will be serving detention every night for the remainder of the year. You are hereby removed from Slytherin's Quidditch team and stripped of prefect status."

Ryan glared at her, then gestured toward Minerva and said, "What about her? She bloody well tried to burn me alive!"

"Oh, right," Catherine said, as though she had forgotten about the other person involved in the fight. She glanced at Minerva. Tom's eyes looked bloody thirst and he stood very close to her. "Fifty points to Gryffindor."

Her attention went back to Ryan. "I am going to do everything in my power to get you expelled. Get out of my sight."

Ryan seemed to be debating whether he should kill Minerva or Catherine first. He gave both of them equally angry looks, then stomped away, muttering something about getting revenge somehow.

Once Ryan was gone, Catherine turned to Minerva. Minerva was expecting an equally harsh punishment, but it did not come. In a surprisingly gentle voice, Catherine asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Minerva said. She was simply shaken up. Ryan wasn't as strong as he looked and the cut to her face was very minor.

She hadn't been seeing things; those were tears, and they fell down Catherine's cheeks when she closed her eyes. "Good," she said. "Excuse me." She walked away at a rapid pace, wiping at her eyes as she went.

Arabella forced her way through the shocked crowd over to Minerva and Tom. "Minerva! Are you okay? What just happened? How did you do that?" she asked. Minerva shook her head and blinked quickly, trying to clear her mind.

"I don't know."

"You should probably get her to the Hospital Wing before the other professors show up and make a bigger scene," Kelsie said, rushing up to them. Her eyes marked the cut on Minerva's cheek.

Tom and Alastor nodded quickly and Alastor cast a glare at the breaking up crowd. "Come on, Min, let's go," Tom whispered quietly in her ear.

"Not to Lenus, I-I want to go back to the Tower."

Alastor didn't argue and the four quickly moved towards the secret passage way behind the witch. It took them a little under a minute to get back to Minerva's chambers.

Alastor was furiously fuming.

"I'm going to kill him!" he shouted, kicking the door shut. "I am going to bloody kill him!" Tom smirked slightly and set Minerva down on the couch and turned back to him.

"I'm not holding you back. He should be lucky he's getting expelled and getting away from us."

Arabella was watching Minerva carefully. Minerva seemed in a trance. Her curls framed her face and her cheeks seemed to be void of all color. Her green eyes seemed to be glassed over. "Who was that and what did she do with Professor Nay?"

Alastor was still fuming as he threw himself into a chair and crossed his arms. Tom conjured a wet rag and handed it off to Minerva who pressed it against the cut.

"I don't know. I've never seen her act that way."

"It looked like she was completely about to lose control," Arabella whispered. With another glance at Minerva, she snapped, "Minerva! Minerva!"

Minerva turned at the sound of her voice. "What?"

Arabella shared a concerned glance with Alastor. "Min, baby, are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Her eyes turned from Arabella to the fire. She seemed thoroughly entranced with the dancing flames. "How did you do that Minerva? You didn't even have your wand out."

She shook her head. "I… don't know."

"That's illegal, Minerva, Dumbledore should know better," Tom hissed from across the room.

Minerva caught a little bit of envy in his tone. Arabella and Alastor shared a look. Minerva turned to look at him. "I know," she said simply.

"What are you two going on about?" Arabella asked nervously, watching her two friends go back and forth.

"Dumbledore's taught Minerva wandless magic," Tom said with a pronounced frown.

Arabella giggled nervously and wasn't relieved when nobody else joined her. "You're not serious. Minerva that illegal! You both could be arrested."

"They can't prove that wasn't accidental magic and not wandless magic. I didn't actually mean to try to burn him alive. I just wanted him away from me."

Her tone was still emotionless, even more so than normal. Tom frowned, but his anger at Ryan seemed to win over his upset at learning of Minerva's wandless skills.

"Well I need a drink," Alastor said, bluntly. He conjured a glass of fire whisky from the air and four glasses.

Minerva snapped to attention. "Get that out of my rooms," she hissed reproachfully. "I don't care if you drink it, but I don't want it in here."

"Well, there we go, that's the Minerva we all know," he said with a crooked grin. Tom vanished the cups from Moody's hand and folded his hands behind his head.

"How long do you think until Dumbledore comes?"

The answer to that question was answered by a rapping on the door. "Minerva, can we come in?" Dumbledore's tone was so soft and concerned it seemed to barely make it into the room.

Tom's eyes met Minerva and with a nod he got up from the chair and unlocked the cherry door to find Professor Dumbledore, headmaster Dippet, and Professor Naye standing in it.

He moved aside and Dumbledore crossed the room in three strides. Minerva had stood up near the fireplace and turned when Dumbledore crossed into the room.

He reached her, clearly relived that her only contusion was a minor cut to the cheek. His fingers grazed over it, barely touching it at all. It healed and closed up on itself.

Looking into her green pools of eyes, he asked very quietly, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said crisply and coolly, "I did more damage than Ryan did, I think."

Professor Naye didn't agree.

She was still fuming though now the tears Minerva had seen seemed to have disappeared. Her normally seamless and ironed robes were off center and slightly wrinkled and her blonde hair was falling out of her tightly pinned bun.

"He bloody well could have killed her—total lack of self-control—he should be lucky I don't pin an assault and attempted murder charge on him—he shouldn't even be allowed to-"

"Professor Naye," interrupted the Headmaster. Dippet had carefully watched the interaction with Dumbledore and his star pupil and the look on Arabella Figg's face watching their normally calm and aloof professor begin to ramble.

"—he's been a loose cannon since his third year and it was only a matter of time before he exploded! The boy has an utter lack of being able to—"

"_Catherine_!"

Professor Naye stopped abruptly and turned to look at the ex-Astronomy teacher with a raised eyebrow.

"I think it would suit you to calm down before you give yourself a coronary, Professor," he said with a kind, almost amused, smile.

"I think not, Headmaster!" she snapped, "this is a serious matter at hand. I want him expelled at once! I refuse to allowed Ryan Garret stay in the castle a moment longer."

Dippet straightened his hat and set a hand on her shoulder kindly. "You need to recollect yourself, Catherine, I agree this is a serious altercation, but I would appreciate it if we could see this from all sides."

Dumbledore moved slightly beside Minerva watching the two professors like the rest in the room. "I don't think you should expel Ryan," Minerva said, her voice calm and emotionless. The two arguing professors stopped and turned simultaneously to stare at her. Their mouth's dropped considerably.

"Miss McGonagall, you are aware that Garrett could have killed you this morning," Dippet said, turning towards her with wide eyes.

"And I could also die every single time I step onto the Quidditch pitch, sir," she said calmly. Minerva felt Dumbledore move restlessly behind her.

"Minerva, this is a very serious altercation," Dumbledore began, but she turned around to face him and the Professor saw something in her eyes that make him stop his protest short. It resembled the same look that she had had when they had discussed the expulsion of young Rubeus Hagrid.

"Minerva, I think you're confusing two very different individuals. These circumstances are not at all alike." His tone had gotten quieter and softer, trying to reassure the girl. He was well aware of the stares both he and Minerva were receiving from the rest of the room, but for once he wasn't sure he cared.

"Are the consequences not resulting in the same? I should have just walked away. I knew Ryan had no self-control and I just propelled the situation forward. I should have left and none of this would have happened."

She turned slightly to look at the rest of the room. Finally Alastor snorted and set his feet on her coffee table. "Well, you can be all noble and Gryffindor, Min baby, but I make no promises that Garrett will live to see graduation."


	17. Chapter XVI: Put Through the Paces

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. I loved how everyone was so happy to get rid of Ryan haha. All the reviews made me laugh. Thank you guys so much, I enjoyed finally getting rid of him. This is one of my most favorite chapters, followed by its short sister chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Thank you all for being so supportive! Over 60 reviews—that's crazy. Please, please, please review.**

_Late February, 1954_

"Good afternoon, I'm Galatea Merrythought the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here at Hogwarts, ex-Auror, and instructor of this little impromptu lesson."

There were seven students sitting at one of the tables in the Great Hall. Minerva sat at the end of the table, watching this woman with interest.

Merrythought was tall and thin with a severe looking face. Her blonde streaked hair was upturned into an unadorned bun. Her robes were black and the darkness of the fabric seemed to shift as she paced in front of them. Her eyes were sharp and angular with large pupils and a light blue iris, almost non-human, but her tone was light and welcoming.

"Behind me is Rufus Scrimgeour, the Deputy Head of the Auroring Office."

The man looked like a proud scarred lion, though Minerva knew perfectly well that the man had been a Slytherin during his stay in Hogwarts. He was tall with broad shoulders and a thick mane of redish brown hair. His eyes were distinguishingly yellow even from a far. Minerva knew automatically that this was not a man to trust, regardless of a revered reputation.

The crowd shifted and Minerva saw Alastor sit up a little straighter in his chair. This man must work with his father, Brutus Moody, the famous Auror.

"I'm sure you are all wondering why you were called here today from your normal classes and I have the answer. Out of the forty in your Year, your Professors thought you were the most talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As you obviously both know, both Mr. Scrimgeour and I were Aurors after our time at Hogwarts. We are here today to do a little experiment of sorts, put you through the paces so to speak."

There was some whispering among the students. Beside her Tom moved restlessly and turned to steal a glance from her. There was excitement in his dark eyes.

Minerva offered him a smile before turning her eyes back towards the speaker. She did however notice that Scrimgeour was watching her too closely for her liking.

"All of you can relax, it's not a test, you're not getting a grade. Today we're going to test your resistance to the Imperius Curse."

Scrimgeour rose as the bubbling of conversation grew and with a silent look he silenced all.

"We of course have a medical team in place," she indicated to Madam Lenus and Poppy Pomfrey who were seated on the edge of the room with her wandless hand, "and it will be completely painless."

There was another moment of disbelief and Minerva turned to look at Alastor who seemed neutral. He shrugged at her and continued to watch Scrimgeour with admiration.

Scrimgeour interrupted them coldly and loudly, his voice echoing across the room like a knife cutting flesh. "We've been cleared by the Ministry and your Headmaster in this matter. Your professors have chosen the seven they thought would be the most able to defect the curse. I think a demonstration will set their minds at ease, Merrythought."

She nodded once, though Minerva saw a little bit of hesitation in her eyes. Scrimgeour seemed to be effortless as he cast the spell and they all watched; some in horror, as Professor Merrythought's eyes grew misty.

"Total control," Scrimgeour growled, "those of you who will be able to resist have to have enough raw power and mind strength to fight. What's tricky about this little bugger is that under the Imperius you'll feel free, burden less, you'll want to stay that way."

Merrythought began to jump up and down on one foot and then she spun in circles. Some of the boys down the row chuckled and Scrimgeour released her.

"Think it's funny do you? Come on then, Pykes, we'll be starting with you."

Minerva was slightly outraged and Tom and Alastor could tell. Minerva was being rather Minerva-ish in the sense of her thinking that no one should be forced to do anything against their will.

They went quickly through the line, no one really having any effect. It was amusing enough to watch, other than Minerva who seemed to be getting even more outraged as each student passed.

Lyle was forced to do a set of backflips around the empty hall, Cashton had been forced to sing a few lines of the national anthem, and the others had been forced to do a number of things that made Minerva furious.

Alastor was up next, the last one before Minerva ended the line at lucky number seven. "Good luck," she whispered and he just anxiously smiled at her. She could feel his nervousness moving forward and Tom moved back to her side as slapped Moody encouragingly on the back.

"I can't believe they agreed to this," she hissed in Tom's ear as he moved to the center of the room with his long wand in hand.

"It's power, Minerva," Tom responded in her ear, sounding much too pleased with himself. "It's pure power."

"It's barbaric and illegal."

Minerva glared at him and turned to find Alastor standing ready. "Mister Alastor Moody," Merrythought read from her clipboard and looked up at the tapering boy.

"Wouldn't be Brutus' boy, would ya?" growled Scrimgeour from the chair, watching them. He hadn't partaken yet in any of the casting, but had intently watched each student's attempt to fight off one of the Unforgivables.

"Yes, sir," Moody said quickly and Scrimgeour nodded once and turned to look at Merrythought.

Tom had already gone and had put up a little resistance before submitting into doing a sort of jazz dance that, under different circumstance, would have made Minerva giggle.

"Ready yourself, Mister Moody, all right… _Imperio_!"

Alastor swayed slightly, as had all the others and she could see his eyes glass over. Minerva inhaled sharply as he stood there. Merrythought's face twitched slightly and she squinted hard at Moody. It happened all at once. Alastor jumped as if he was supposed to simply jump onto the chair, but at the same time he twisted his body away from the chair.

He landed with a crack on the floor.

Minerva jumped into action, only to be grabbed sharply around the waist by Tom. She fought against him, trying to Alastor, but Tom's grip was like iron.

"Minerva, you need to calm down, damn it, Minerva, he's _fine_. Calm down!"

Scrimgeour giggled loudly and forcibly stood up from the chair. "See that! See that! Moody almost beat it! He damn well almost beat it!" Alastor shook slightly and took the hand Scrimgeour offered him and massaged his shoulder slightly.

"Well done, boy, well done! Let's try again, yes?"

This time any resistance from Alastor had previously was gone and he simply jumped on command. Scrimgeour looked perplexed, but withdrew the curse automatically and nodded slowly.

"Interesting, well done, lad, the longer you're under the curse and the more times your exposed in a given few minutes, the less you're able to resist. Good job."

Alastor smiled weakly and moved back towards Tom and Minerva, who Tom had let go of once Alastor was cursed again. He gave her a smile and squeezed her hand as she moved gracefully to the middle of the room.

"You are Miss Minerva McGonagall," Scrimgeour said and she nodded carefully, not sure if he was all too safe to be around.

"Yes sir."

"Galatea, I'd like to a have go at Miss McGonagall, if that's all right," he said, not taking his eyes off Minerva. The woman moved aside and nodded.

"Of course."

Minerva saw a flash of compassion and hesitation in Galatea's eyes as she moved away from her. It felt like an apology.

"Ready yourself, Miss McGonagall," Scrimgeour shouted, brandishing his wand at her. She held her hand wrap around her own wand tightly and exhaled slowly, willing her instincts to take over and protect her.

"And… _IMPERIO!_"

The feeling was wonderful.

She was floating and there wasn't a care in the world. Everything was beautiful. Cloudless and weightlessness assaulted her and she felt herself calming breathing in the sunlight.

But there was something wrong with this and Minerva couldn't place what that was. It was like she was dreaming. No, that shouldn't be.

Where were her thoughts? Her lesson plans she was composing the in back of her mind? Her paper quotations for her Charms essay? They were all seemingly gone.

There was something very wrong with this.

_Transform for me, Miss McGonagall._

There were words and voices ones that did not belong inside of her head. They didn't belong to her at all.

_Transform into your animagus form. _

There it was again.

_No. I don't think so. _

That was her voice there now.

_Don't do that. Don't listen to him, Minerva._

The foreign voice returned and it was stronger this time, louder, as if the person was shouting.

_Transform, Miss McGonagall!_

That voice should not be there! Minerva began to panic. She wasn't aware where she was, but she knew she could not do as this voice was asking.

_Wake up, Minerva, you need to wake up. You need to regain control. WAKE UP! _

There was something so very wrong with her. She was going crazy, a victim of her own mind. Was this what it felt like when one went into recesses of their minds?

Almost automatically Minerva began to buffer and safeguard her mind with her Occlumency shields. For some reason they wouldn't engage.

Her mind was under assault.

There was someone inside of her mind, making her go crazy. There was a wild terror in her heart now, pumping pure panic into veins.

It was then that Minerva began to feel dizzy and trapped, like she was being suffocated by an invisible hand. Was that it? Was she dying? Or was it that she was already dead and in some state of limbo. Was that they these voices were trying to make her move against her will.

_TRANSFORM!_

Her own voice seemed to be stronger this time, louder than the other voice. It thundered like lightening, echoing across the whiteness in her mind.

_NO! I WILL NOT. _

Then the whiteness of her vision spun and she was suddenly looking into a much more lovely blackness.

_*Hogwarts 1953*_

The blackness she decided was much more comforting than the previous whiteness. The strange voice that had been in her head earlier was gone, much to her joy.

It was then she heard others around her.

"…shows impressive skills as an Occulmens and a duelist. Even at this young age, she shows promise to be force to be reckoned with."

Her mind was still a bit darkly fuzzy. She didn't recognize that voice. It was someone she's hadn't met before, but it was definitely male and older.

She was lying down now, she realized, on something soft. She left her eyes shut and allowed her other senses to engage. Allowing her magical field to stretch, she realized that there were a group of people close to her of eight or nine people.

Someone very close to her was wearing a sharp scent of lavender perfume. There was a hand on her pulse twitching every now and then. It was Poppy she realized after a while.

"They shouldn't have been allowed to curse children at all," replied a cross voice. This voice she knew. It belonged to Catherine Naye.

"Listen here, Madam, we are at war! These so called children are all of age and the graduating class. They're no more children than we are."

That was Scrimgeour's voice.

Minerva inwardly frowned at that man. She didn't like him or his means of trying to recruit people.

There was a sound of doors being forcibly thrown open and a third voice entered the conversation. This one she was over joyed to hear.

"Would someone like to explain to me why you felt the need to try and _Imperius_ my apprentice? Or maybe the fact that you refused to pull out of her mind before she had a panic attack? Or maybe why no one thought it fit to mention it to me when it happened?"

There was a coughing sputter on Scrimgeour's part.

It was Dippet that began to speak next. "Albus, I think you need to calm down for a moment-"

"I think not," Dumbledore said briskly. "Well? Anyone? No, how disappointing," Dumbledore said with an obvious frown in his tone. "Let's try this again, yes Rufus? Why are you Imperius students for research without checking their normal brain patterns and capacities first?"

"Well we—"

Dumbledore cut him off and continued talking as if there wasn't a reply at all. "Then you would have known _better_ than to lock into a seventeen year old girl's mind who can crack riddles in a matter of _seconds_ that would take you and your entire Department years to even understand!"

There was a sudden and cold draft in the room. No one spoke for another moment.

"Why wasn't I informed?"

No one spoke again.

"For this reason, I think, Albus," came another voice from the direction of the doors. This woman, Merrythought, sounded unalarmed and pleasant.

"Ah, Galatea, I would say it's a pleasure to see you again, but as you did just use an Unforgivable Curse on my apprentice and six of her classmates, I'm sure you'll understand when I don't."

The woman chuckled. "Ah, Albus, you haven't change in the least. As you can see Miss McGonagall is in capable hands, if anything, it was just a scare. She did revolutionarily well."

"Yes, well congratulations, you've achieved what you came here for." Minerva never heard Dumbledore's voice so cold. She could tell the others around him too were shocked by the normally calm and composed wizard's tone.

"Well now that we're all being perfectly honest with one another," Rufus said loudly, "we were wondering why you thought it'd be appropriate to teach an underage girl Occlumency, Dumbledore!"

Minerva's heart jumped slightly. They knew she was an Occlumens. Did that mean they knew Tom was one as well? Oh they were so screwed, so very screwed.

"And don't think about denying it, when I was inside her mind, she panicked and tried to engage her shields."

"When Miss McGonagall came under my guidance at the age of fourteen she was already an advanced Occlumens," Dumbledore said expressionlessly.

There was outrageous laughter.

"Please Dumbledore, you're saying a fourteen year old taught herself Occlumency? It's preposterous!" Scrimgeour began.

"For someone like you maybe, but for someone like Miss McGonagall I doubt it was much of a challenge at all."

There was a pride in Dumbledore voice that Minerva didn't hear very often. She was enveloped with a warm sensation and quickly felt the rest of the fog around her mind dissipate. There was a quick and bothersome alarm. She then felt Poppy's hand on her arm again.

"Her mind's returned to full functioning capacity," she heard her say quietly and then felt the warm and calloused hands of Albus Dumbledore on her and his scent of sandalwood, easing her into a sitting position.

Her eyes fluttered open and the room was darkening from the outside windows. Poppy and Dumbledore were watching her concernedly. "Minerva?"

"Did I pass the test?"

Dumbledore chuckled deeply.

"Yes, my dear, I dare say you did. Though I think you should have cursed him with something a little more than a stinging hex, but…"

"I think that's our cue to be off," Merrythought said, watching the interaction closely. "But before we depart, I would like to see Miss McGonagall transform, if she would be so kind."

All eyes in the room found Minerva and she felt uncomfortable with all the attention. Her eyes lingered on Scrimgeour for a moment before peering up at her mentor for instruction.

Albus' face was emotionless, but he put an obviously forced smile on his face and nodded to her, her signal that it was all right to proceed She slipped the heart rate monitor off her finger and with a silent pop found herself in her cat form.

She watched the amazed and surprised looks of the two Ministry workers and the other professors in the room with disinterest. She flicker her tail and waited another moment before transforming back.

The brash Auror murmured something under his breath that sounded like _"extraordinary"_ before he and Merrythought bid everyone a quiet goodbye.

Once the doors shut Arabella, Tom, and Alastor burst inside. "Did you get arrested?" Alastor shouted as they ran up to the bed.

"So sorry to disappoint," she answered, turning back towards Poppy and Albus, "what happened?"

"Well you sort of had a sort of panic attack, Scrimgeour was a little gun hoe in your mind and you…_well_…reacted. Instead of letting him control you…you sort of… shut down and hexed him."

"It's was totally badass, Min!"

Minerva rolled her eyes and met Tom's look. "You did fine," he said almost dismissively, "Alastor overreacting because he's jealous he can't get away from with cursing Scrimgeour."

"I am not!"

Arabella giggled and Minerva smirked. She watched her two friends argue for a while all while being aware of Dumbledore's warm hand still sitting on her back, a solid and protective presence.


	18. Chapter XVII: Unrequited?

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. This is the follow up chapter to the last one. This will probably be the last update before Christmas. Let me know what you think of this chapter. It's one of my favorites despite its brevity. Please, please, please review.**

****Extra credit House points for anyone who can spot the Half-Blood Prince reference in this chapter!**

_Late February, 1954 _

Albus' head appeared in the fireplace and Nicholas Flamel didn't look up from the books he was reading in his study. Albus coughed.

"Hello my boy," Nicholas said, eyes still on the pages.

"Nicholas? Could I have your advice? Perenelle too?" Albus asked carefully.

As if she had telepathic powers Perenelle floated into the room. "What have you done now, Albus?" she said with a smile, perching herself on the edge of her husband's desk.

Albus sighed and in the next movement he was inside the Nicholas' office. Without thinking Albus spun the gold and silver galaxy model on the desk. It had amused Nicholas to no end during his apprentice with a twenty one years old Albus. He had been a broken and wayward twenty years old at that. After the accident that killed his sister and ended his family, Albus was searching for guidance and love.

Nicholas had provided that.

He had been a tall, scraggily looking boy, not a few days over twenty one with auburn hair and energetic blue eyes. Nicholas had taken a liking to him immediately. He was young and eager to learn.

There had always been a love between the three of them. Nicholas and Perenelle never had any children. Nicholas had had a few other apprentices, none ever as brilliant as Albus. The other apprentices had been with the couple a year or two and then had gone on their way. No, Albus held a special place in their hearts.

Nicholas and Albus were inseparable most days, working late into the night on new experiments and potions. Ideas were being formed and thought out, explosions and smells igniting all around the estates.

Perenelle smiled remembering Albus falling asleep on one of the couch after a long day in the lab with Nicholas, half his body hanging off the end, his arm over his face, snoring softly.

And then Albus had grown up from a young man into a man bent on seeking the light for others and himself. He had been asked to come back to Hogwarts and teach Transfiguration, his favorite subject, which he accepted, wanting something to do that would help others.

They had stayed in contact of course and he visited them during the holidays. Nicholas had never taken another apprentice after Albus. Life seemed to have slowed down for the couple.

Then only a few years ago, Albus had called over to them, telling the two immortal he needed to speak with them about something important.

They had all had dinner when Albus had handed them a photograph of a young girl. She was beautiful and small like a little china doll. She was pale and flawless, white like porcelain without cracks. Her obsidian hair was long and ringlet curly; the kind Perenelle wished she always had as a child. She was really pretty. The child couldn't be more than thirteen. Her eyes were the most exquisite orbs Perenelle had seen with the exception of her own. They were brilliantly green with beautiful flecks of gold all around the iris.

What was so curious about her was the air of which she held herself. There were others around in, two boys and a girl, and she stood up away from them. It was a sort of glow she wore. It made her seem older, more sophisticate, and powerful.

Oh yes, Perenelle had known from that second that there was something very special about this child.

"I want to take an apprentice," Albus said carefully, watching their reactions. They had snapped to attention. This was something very new.

Albus had never expressed any desire to take an apprentice. It was quite common to having been an apprentice himself. But Albus was extremely powerful and thus his apprentice would have to have immense talent.

Nicholas knew that Albus' hesitation to take on an apprentice was more due to fear and regret than anything else. He was afraid to hurt anyone else. He was afraid to invest into them he may hurt them as he thought he had so many others. He was afraid of becoming attached.

"Her name is Minerva. Minerva McGonagall."

Perenelle and Nicholas shared a look before turning back to Albus who awaited their input nervously. Nicholas was the first to speak. "She's very young, my boy," he said slowly as if he was tasting the words as they came out, "her magic could still be developing…"

"She won the Transfiguration World Championship."

Perenelle's eyes widened. "At this young of an age?" she questioned, surprised. Albus nodded quietly, his blue eyes seeking approval.

Nicholas exhaled in contemplation and took the photograph from Perenelle's manicured fingers and his gray eyes coursed over the photographs. His calloused fingers moved over her face as if he was searching through her soul.

"I think this is a good idea," he said finally, igniting a light in Albus' eyes that he would keep for the years ahead.

Albus finished explaining his conversation over the Imperius trial and sunk lower into his chair. "And I just completely lost control," he said, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

There was a moment before Nicholas spoke.

"I feel that you often forget just how much Miss McGonagall has grown in the years she has been under your care. She will not be at Hogwarts forever."

"You think I overreacted," Albus stated simply.

"No, I think you will have to come to realize she will not always been an arm's length away to protect her. What Rufus Scrimgeour did was wrong, yes, but there are going to be others—many others—that will be just as curious about her abilities both now and in the future."

He folded his hands together and leaned his chin on them, watching Albus carefully. The thought of her leaving seemed to distress him.

Perenelle smiled and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "What if it hadn't been the Imperius Curse? What if it had been the Cruciatus? What's stopping them from testing that out on students until they've been driven from their minds?" Albus said crossly.

"War does cruel things to people," Perenelle said softly, her soft eyes flickering up at Nicholas. He quietly averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

"She's fine, you said it yourself. There was no lasting damage, it was just a scare. I think you're worrying about it far too much."

He glanced down back at his books and the conversation was over. Albus was gone within the next few minutes and Perenelle came around the other side of her husband's desk and wrapped her arms around him.

He leaned into her warmth as her hands made small circles on his chest. There was silence for a little while other than the breathing and beating of both of their hearts.

"He loves her," Perenelle whispered softly, her eyes glowing youthfully with happiness.

"Yes," Nicholas said simply, "though I am unsure even he realizes it yet."

Perenelle smiled beamingly. There was a moment of silence, before— "Do you think she loves him?"

Nicholas' eyes flew up from the parchment he was reading. He hadn't really considered the other side of the equation. Minerva had always been Albus' Minerva. "I think she's _very_ young, Perenelle."

"But?" she prompted with a knowing smile.

"Even still, for now she feels safe with him and I think that is enough."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

The library was quite by the time it was just Tom Riddle and Minerva Mcgonagall. They had been silent for a while, just the scrawling of quills and the tapping of inkwells as the two worked.

"Have you spoken with your father?"

The question was so out of nowhere that Minerva blinked twice before being able to formulate a thought. "I told you to forget about it Tom."

"I can't," he said simply, dropping his quill and turning towards her. "It's important to you, so I have to care." She sighed agitatedly and rubbed her eyes and she glanced over at him.

"He wrote to say he and my mother are going to try and work thing out, for my brother's sakes."

"That's good."

Minerva inclined her head, but her eyebrows contracted as she nodded to Tom's open bag on the table.

"Are those crystallized pineapples?" she said, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips. The unopened bag sat on top of his books.

"Meeting with Slughorn and I thought I might need a little more support on my side," Tom said smoothly, collecting his thing with a charmingly smile and Minerva rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps you are too clever for your own good, Head Boy. You'd better get on then, or you'll be late for your late for you pineapple date."

He chuckled, his dark eyes glinting.

"Tom?" Minerva called after him, suddenly. He turned in the doorway. "Thank you for caring."

He gave her a small smile and an elaborate bow to her before disappearing into the quiet of the library.


	19. Chapter XVIII: Picture of Perfection

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. This is the follow up chapter to the last one. Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everyone's holiday is as wonderful and lovely as possible! I was stunned by the reviews from the last chapter! Over 75 reviews and 18 chapters? Crazy!**

**As to the HBP Reference, congrats to **_**Samuel la Flame**_**, **_**CrazyLovingMMAD Fan**_**, **_**shahnawaz786**_** for getting it correct. You all get 100 House points for being, as Snape would say, "an insufferable know-it-all". (: It was indeed crystalized pineapples. That was the night tom was going to ask Slughorn about the Horcruxes!**

**I just want to welcome back **_**Samuel la Flame**_** back to reviewing the story. It's always exciting to read their name on the review email! Also, **_**sakurasasuke**_**, your review about Albus made me laugh SO hard! Thank you for your ever wonderful thoughts! They're always a joy. **

**Okay, sorry for the long A/N, I will allow you to get on with the chapter now. Thank you all, even if not mentioned above, for the reviews, and please let me know what you think of the latest chapter!**

_Middle of March, 1954_

"Minerva?"

"Hmm?" she hummed towards Tom, not looking up from her textbook in the restricted section. Here Tom paused watching her with perceptive eyes to gauge her reaction.

"I need a favor, Head Girl," he said silkily.

"What sort of favor, Head Boy?" she questioned, pushing her parchment away from the book and staring up in his eyes. He smiled charmingly, though the action had never really had an effect on Minerva. She simply saw right through it and him. He knew he couldn't fool her. He never could.

"Well, Slughorn…_hold on let me finish_… Slughorn is having a sort of special party on Friday and I was wondering if you'd do me the invaluable honor and accompany me…as Head Girl and Boy, of course?"

There was a pause that was almost too much to Tom's already sleepless nerves to take. He took a sigh of relief when she smiled and nodded gracefully.

"I would love to."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Tom Riddle picked Minerva up at promptly at 8:44. He smiled brightly as she stepped out from the Head Girl quarters wearing a silver dress, much like the one she had worn at New Years, only this one seemed a bit more sophisticated.

The length reached her mid-thigh and the dress was pleated in layers of silver lace. The back was tied back like a corset with deep emerald colored ribbon. This matched the beading and green on the bodice. Tom smiled when he recognized the beading as a Celtic pattern, a representation of her birthplace.

Instead of having her long waist length hair down and framing her face it was up curled in a beautiful and elaborate bun. Purposeful strands were left down and curled around her cheeks.

"You look ravishing my Minerva, come your carriage awaits," he said in a regal tone that made Minerva roll her eyes and smile. She took his outstretched arm and they fell into each other's step.

"I should warn you before we get in there," Tom began, "that there are quite a few people there that Slughorn invites every now and then that like to smother you a bit, but don't worry they're normally harmless."

Minerva stopped abruptly.

"Normally harmless?" she said, glaring at him pointedly. He shifted slightly and brought his hand around her waist. They shifted back into the shadows of the hall, away from prying eyes.

"The youngest Transfiguration Champion in the world won't have any problems, trust me. Trust her. Just remember that you love me a lot. And that I owe you for life, all right," he said, squeezing her once.

"I suppose we should get the grand entrance over with," she huffed, "it's a good thing we're so close Tom or I would have run by now."

"Nah, not run, Gryffindors don't run, Minerva. Or so you like to tell me."

"All right, I'm ready," she answered and straightened up. She retook his arm and exhaled slowly. Tom smirked as he watched her hold her head up at a slightly higher angle and they walked through the doors.

He had always marveled at how regal Minerva could be. They strolled through the doors and almost immediately all the attention in the room fell on them.

His heart accelerated and he felt Minerva squeeze his arm once, almost more reassuring him than herself. The attention wasn't something Minerva ever valued or enjoyed. The spotlight was a little too bright for her taste. Tom seemed to notice this and his voice was almost nonexistent when he whispered to her.

"You would think we've sprout antlers. The audacity of the common people astounds me sometimes."

Minerva smiled faintly in response.

Luckily, Slughorn bounded over them and the rest of the party-goers went back to their drinks and company.

"Tom m'boy, good to see you!" Slughorn said loudly greeting.

"Hello, sir," Tom greeted back with a charming smile.

"I see you manage to convince the ever radiant Head Girl to accompany you tonight, what an accomplishment," he said with a large chuckle.

The Professor was only a bit taller than Minerva and rather short next to Tom with a balding head and a thick darker mustache. He was wearing a silk suit with a maroon velvet vest with an expensive gold pocket watch visible in the left breast pocket.

"Good evening, Professor," Minerva greeted a little less warmly than Tom, though she did smile elegantly.

"Evening, my dear, come we must show you two off to a few of my old friends here," he said thickly. Minerva suspected that whatever was in that wine glass of his wasn't pumpkin juice.

Minerva glared half-heartedly at Tom and he just tried to stifle his smirk. "Come on now, Min, you let Dumbledore show you off."

Yes, but she felt safe with Dumbledore. Slughorn would sell her off to the highest bidder with a happy smile on his face.

She knew this was going to be a long night.

"You owe me _big_, Tom Riddle," she hissed under her breath. Tom laughed with a real smile on his face. He tightened his hold on Minerva and followed after Slughorn.

"Mister Haas, this is Hogwarts' pride and joy, Head Boy and Girl, Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall."

The night rolled on and Tom had barely let go of her all night, not that Minerva minded at the moment. They were under constant assault by Ministry Officials, famous scholars, and for Minerva professional Quidditch players.

It was well past eleven when Professor Slughorn left the two alone. Minerva's sigh of relief was only audible to Tom who chuckled loudly.

"It's not that bad, Minerva, think I have to do this every month!" he teased, loosening his arms from around her waist as they made their way to get a cup of punch.

"Just because you allowed yourself to be collected doesn't mean I want to. I'm here for you, not to be stared at like some rare butterfly inside a glass case."

Tom snorted and handed her a champagne glass. She nodded her thanks and they observed the rest of the party. "I'm thinking they're rather impressed with you, Head Girl."

"Or maybe it's you they like Head Boy. You'd play the part of politics well I think."

Tom smirked harshly. "Oh yes, the democratic way, a chance to simply appease all parties. You and I, Minerva, we're much too clever to play politics. If we decided it was worth our while, which we won't, we would simply have to control the game."

"You've obviously put a lot of thought into this, Tom." Minerva watched him out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged in an almost flustered way.

"I think, therefore I am," he remarked carefully. "Some of us just think a little different than others."

"I suppose that's what makes us so brilliant."

Minerva's words made his smile and they fell into a comfortable silence. Tom's suit was shining in the light which only seemed to ignite Minerva's dress even more. Unaware, they were being photographed by those around them, the two looked perfect. They were two beautifully aloof and cool statues whose exquisiteness seemed to shine off one another. They were the picture of perfection.

The picture of content in their faces was shattered as one Abraxas Malfoy skittered over to them. He was overall nervous Minerva noticed. He was a fellow Seventh Year and a Slytherin. He wore an all too expensive suit and tie with shiny black shoes. His blonde hair was messy as if he hadn't bothered to comb it in the last week.

He moved over to Tom, whispering fervently in his ear. Tom's expression darkened and his hand twitched towards his wand in his coat pocket.

Tom glared at him and Malfoy took a cautionary step backwards. Tom turned towards Minerva who had one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "Problem with your ever growing cult that follows you around?" she quipped.

"They bother you," he stated, not so much as a question in his tone. Tom swore in his head. He wanted to keep that a secret from Minerva, which was easier said than done.

"What would give you that idea?" she asked sarcastically, her green eyes marking Malfoy with distaste. Tom growled in frustration under his breath.

"I don't want to upset you," he said quietly in her ear. Minerva's eyes moved away from Malfoy and turned towards Tom. She hesitated briefly before speaking.

"_You_ don't upset me."

"You complex me Minerva McGonagall," he said with a slight frown. His eyes ran over her appraisingly as if they hadn't grown up together for the last seven years.

"Complexing you was not the original goal, but excuse me if I congratulate myself on the esteemed accomplishment, Tom Riddle," she returned with a beautiful smirk.

This seemed to break the tension around them and Tom's cocky smile returned to his pale face.

"Go fix whatever problem seems to be taxing your little group of followers," she said nodding towards Malfoy. "I'll try not to get stolen away in your absence, Head Boy."

"It would be most unfortunate for the thief, Head Girl" he said sultrily. Minerva rolled her eyes and turned her face away from him, indicating that the conversation was over.

He moved away with Malfoy and Minerva's face smoothed out as she watched the others around her. "You're knee deep in Slytherin blood, McGonagall."

Minerva beamed at the voice behind her.

"Kingsley!" she greeted with a smile. Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled grandly and came to stand next to her. He was dressed his classic purple robes with little gold suns on them. His bald head and dark skin made his deep eyes stand out with a sparkling liveliness.

"Minerva," he greeted her with a friendly hug. Minerva almost disappeared in his thick, muscular arms. "I'm very surprised to see you here."

"I've been called in as a favor to a friend," she said mysteriously and Kingsley just laughed good-naturedly.

"Yes, that Tom Riddle must be some friend to have whisked the Lady Gryffindor Minerva McGonagall to a Slug Club party."

"Jealous of the feat, Shacklebolt?" she teased with a knowing smile.

"Who wouldn't be?" he said raising his glass of champagne a little higher in his hand. "How have you been?"

"I've been well, definitely busy. I'm teaching your sister Transfiguration," she remarked, "though she's talented, I'm not sure she has her older brother's flair."

Kingsley laughed with a white smile. "Yes, Camilla mentioned she had one 'Miss Minerva' for Transfiguration. She's enjoying it, so that's the only thing I really focus on. Life's too short not to have fun, I think."

"How's the Auroring training going? Only six months left, yes?"

"Your memory is as impeccable as always," he said courteously, "it's going really well. They need all the help they can get with the war with Grindelwald. The only thing I dislike it the politics, but what can you do? Your name's been mentioned in the last few months? Are you thinking of joining?" he asked eagerly.

Minerva smiled politely, but the warm of her usual beaming wasn't there. "Perhaps, nothing's been set in stone, yet. I have a lot of options and sorting through all them is…"

"Tedious?"

"Very."

She and Kingsley discussed the war for a little while before they parted ways. She visited with a few scholars who came her way and she stunned them with her fountain of spilling knowledge.

She was looking for Tom when she run down by a medi-witch dancing carelessly with her partner and Minerva agitatedly moved across the dancefloor.

"Hello."

The voice was cautious and slightly accented. Minerva turned to find Vincent Rousse smiling nervous at her, standing only a few paces away.

She had almost forgotten Rousse. He was a quiet and almost unnoticeable presence. She had very few classes with him and little interaction out of class.

"Vincent," she returned, "how are you?"

He coughed and ran a hand through his long hair. Minerva quickly picked up on his discomfort and took a step closer. He looked nice in his black suit and green tie, but he was obviously uncomfortable in these surroundings.

"I'm fine, thank you. Hov are you?"

"I'm well. I didn't know you were a part of Professor Slughorn's group."

His gray eyes shifted nervously around the room and anywhere but her. "Uh, yes…he asked me back a fev months ago. I was unavare you were a part of it. I haven't seen you at any of the other gatherings."

He shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet, a habit Minerva found annoying. "I'm not," she said smoothly, "I'm here with my Head Boy counterpart."

"Tom Riddle," Vincent said with a short nod, "he's rather smart, yes?"

Struck by the question and the conversation piece, she merely nodded. "How are you finding Hogwarts?" she asked. He shrugged, still uneasy around her. The rumors of his solitary nature were the only thing keeping her from being slightly hurt that he felt perturbed around her.

"It's very different from Durmstrang," he said softly, "I'm still getting used to it, I think. My uncle vasn't please I decided to transfer upon moving here. He's big on…"

"_Hello Rousse." _

Tom's voice was cold and calculating as he slipped his arm onto its familiar place in Minerva's waist. He smiled charmingly, though his eyes were narrow and unsympathetic.

"Hello," he said quietly, his eyes marking the arm around Minerva's waist and his closeness to her.

"Minerva, it's almost one. I want a dance before we have to go and patrol," he said turning to her. Minerva nodded once and sent a smile towards Rousse.

"Of course, have a good night Vincent."

"Bye," he whispered softly.

Minerva felt Tom lead her away from Vincent Rousse and towards the edge of the dance floor. They fell into the easy rhythm of each other's movements and steps and Minerva felt Tom's eyes studying her.

"What did Rousse want?" he questioned sharply.

"To say hello, I suppose, why?" Minerva responded with an elegant shrug.

Tom looked slightly ruffled. "Oh honestly, Tom, you can't be serious. He was just saying hello. There's not need to try and scare him off."

"I never said I was going to," he snapped defensively.

"The look in your eyes said otherwise," she countered, allowing him to spin her once and then resting her arms around him.

"Read my eyes often, do you?" he questioned.

"Only when I need to," she whispered, prying her eyes off him. He rolled his dark eyes with a smile and spun her around much faster than the song called for.

Minerva laughed, her cheeks flushing with color, making them much less ashen. Her dress spun around her like a flower's petals.

"Aren't we supposed to be patrolling the third floor, right now Head Boy?" she questioned as they danced on. He smirked and ran a hand through her curls. If the action bothered Minerva she didn't let it show.

"Yes, I suppose we are, Head Girl."

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Professor Slughorn warmly greeted Cornelius Fudge, the assistant to the Minster of Magic. "Hello, Cornelius, ol chum!" Horace greeted him. Fudge smiled under his bowler hat and joined the Potion's master with a drink in his hand.

"That's your boy Riddle over there, yes?"

"Head Boy, yes, that's him. Tom Riddle," Horace said, his voice slightly slurred.

"And who's that lovely young lady with him tonight?" he said, nodding the beautiful raven haired girl who Tom was dancing with.

"Ah, that's Head Girl Minerva McGonagall."

"Albus Dumbledore's Minerva McGonagall?" Fudge question with a raised eyebrow. He had seen her in the papers, even bought a copy of her book.

"Yes, that's her."

"He looks very peaceful, more so than I've seen him over the years," Fudge commented, watching him smile as he spun her around. He had kept close tabs on the Riddle boy since Horace had collected him.

"They're very close," Horace supplied, "though more so this year than any other."

"Hm. When the wedding?"

Slughorn cackled with laughter, his wine glass tipping wobbly in his plump fingers. "The question indeed, Cornelius, the question indeed… though he seems to be the only one to be able to tame Miss McGonagall's fire and yet the only time I see young Tom at peace is when she's only an arm's length away."

"Yin and Yang," Fudge mused, watching them break apart and getting ready to depart. "They're both exceedingly powerful. It's a wonder that they balance each other so well. They should be an interesting set to watch, don't you agree."

"Hear, hear!"

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

They moved into the hallway and claimed one staircase into the third floor. Minerva hadn't let go of his arm and Tom felt her warmth as they began their usual rounds.

"You have the thinking face on, love," he teased her. Minerva's eyes flickered to his face at the new term of endearment, but didn't remark on it.

"I'm always thinking," she deflected deftly. They slowed their walk and Minerva slipped her arm out of his and lit her wand with a snap of her wrist.

Tom frowned when she slipped from his hands and took a step away. "They're harmless, Minerva," he said quietly, both knowing what the other was referring to.

"So says you. As a leader, forgive me if I don't believe your bias," she said coolly. They walked another dozen steps before Tom had decided on a correct response.

"Tell me to walk away from them and I will," he breathed to her. Minerva stopped and turned to face him. The light from her wand cast a shadow on her face; her expression was partially hidden from him.

"I shouldn't have to tell you to do something you know to be right, regardless of what others will seemingly think," Minerva said, her voice still expressionless.

"Your faith in me and my morals in astonishing," he remarked, trying to ease the tension around them. She blinked once and looked over his shoulder.

A sudden thought struck her and her breath seemed to fade. "Please tell me you have nothing to do with the attacks on the Muggleborns."

Her eyes melted into his, searching for something inside them that she couldn't find in his words. She held him there captive for a few moments. "Why would you ask something like that, Minerva?"

The tension and wild magic around them seemed to push the two together. There was no sound, no smells, there was nothing but the two.

"Swear to me, Tom," she said, her eyes remaining unblinking and mystifying. "Swear you to me that you didn't kill that girl."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "Minerva, I _swear_ to you I didn't kill anyone, I didn't hurt any of those Muggleborns." His voice was breathy and airy, like he was searching through her soul, given access by the depths of her eyes.

There was a heartbeat and then she turned her face away from him. Tom's temper cracked. "You don't believe me," he whispered, "why?"

"I'm not inside your head, Tom, I don't know what…"

This seemed to ignite Tom's internal fire. "You want to know my every thought? My every need? Fine! I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything, Minerva, everything."

Wild magic crackled around them like an aura and wind fluttered around them moving the fabric of Minerva's dress, her curls, and Tom's jacket.

"_Stay with me Minerva and I'll give you my soul."_

He closed the space between them and Minerva's back was pressed up against the wall behind her. He grabbed her arm and her wand to clatter to the ground below them. The wandless magic around them elevated, glowing around them, pulsing. He took her arms and the only indication of shock was quick blink of Minerva's green eyes.

"Careful, Tom," she breathed, her eyes watching him closely, but calmly, "this is a dangerous game we're playing."

He laughed at this, though the statement was scarily true. "You always have to be in control, Minerva, always so careful and planned; all those little boxes of yours to keep everybody else out and away. What happens when you're not in control?"

Minerva's pulse elevating as did the pulsing around them. The different colors seemed to mesh and blend together like a mist.

He grabbed her forearms crudely and leaned into her roughly, in such an un-Tom like manner, that it startled her. There was a slight hiccup in her breath.

"Are you frightened Minerva?" he whispered, his voice near her ear.

"No."

Her voice didn't betray the initial shock of him grabbing her. It was collected and very in control.

"Shouldn't you be?"

"Yes, but I'm not."

There was a still and calm tone to her voice as if this was an everyday, common occurrence.

"And why is that?"

"Because you're not going to hurt me," she said simply. Tom's eyes blazed and his fingers became slack on her forearms and slipped down away from them and found her waist.

Before either knew what happened, Tom crushed his lips onto hers. The magical around them flushed gold. The passion around her seemed to suffocate time and it seemed like year before she broke apart and opened her eyes. Tom's eyes flickered open taking in her smirk.

"That was out of order."

Tom laughed with the crispness she said it. His heart was pounding painfully against his ribs. He couldn't come up with a response and found his mind numb from the passion of Minerva's lips.

"Put me down, please," she said, still smirking.

Unaware of when he had picked up off the floor, he gently returned her feet to the ground. When her soles hit the ground, the magic around them disappeared with a crackle.

"Always in control, Minerva, you never cease to surprise me," he said, coolly, all the control returned and fire vanished from his now calm tone.

"It's a gift."

"You'll be the death of me, I'm sure."

"What a way to go," she teased watching him for a moment before moving down the corridor with a regal flourish.

"Where are you going?" he called, amusedly, after her.

"We're supposed to be patrolling, Head Boy," she called after him, "and I'm not getting detention because you can't focus."

He shook his head and jogged after her.

**A/N: A little Christmas gift for everyone, I posted an unrelated HP one-shot for everyone to enjoy titled "Poisons of the Soul". Thank you all for your continual support!**

_**The angel said, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David's town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you're to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger."**_

_**(Luke 2:10-11)**_


	20. Chapter IXX: Powerful Beyond Belief

**All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. From here on out we have quite a few words from Minerva's native language, Scottish Gaelic, which I find really enhances the story. I have posted a new unrelated one-shot titled "Poisons of the Soul", so let me know what you think of it. For the next few chapters we're working off of the same night, so be ready for the long haul. I hope you enjoy. I have changed it up quite a bit from the original I posted a year ago. Please review. **

_Start of March, 1954_

The game was afoot.

Since their kiss in the middle of the hallway only a few weeks ago, Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall had been in a real life chess game, each determined to best the other, and win the bout.

Curiously enough, Tom Riddle had suddenly broken off his relationship with Kelsie that weekend at Hogsmeade. She wasn't heartbroken, rather setting her eyes on Barty Crouch, who she had secretly been keeping her eye on the entire time. Tom didn't even care enough to seem irked.

Their bantering got more frequent and even wittier. Minerva had really been teasing him constantly; little side comments and backwards looks here and there, just to throw him off.

There had been no talk about the kiss or the argument that led up to it.

They were in no man's land really. Neither here nor there. Rumors flew around the school like wild fire. Within the three weeks that had become something of Hogwart's Golden Couple. Nothing was proclaimed. They were not supposedly "together". What seemed to attract everyone was how much they were _not_ publically together.

It was the small smiles across the room and the hand around her waist that had the romantics at Hogwarts swooning. Word got to both of them separately from many different sources of course. No one ever called the their new title directly—everyone knew of the rumors of what happened when one assaulted someone close to Tom Riddle, physically, socially, or verbally—and none wanted anything to do with that messiness.

So they chose to discuss the "Golden Couple" behind bookshelves and behind closed doors. If Minerva or Tom had a comment on it, they didn't speak it. To the two of them, it was only more incentive to win the game. The audience was caught in a state of anticipation and waiting, watching the Head Boy and Head Girl battle it out.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

"Thank you for meeting me, Professor," the man said, seating himself without an invitation as Albus opened the door to his office.

"Secretary Lincoln, we have never met face to face, but I've heard a lot about you already."

The suited man snorted. His waist was extended enough to not consider him thin and his head was narrow enough to highlight his small eyes that were lack luster brown.

"Please, I know you dislike me and my bosses already hate you." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Scimgreour and the liasons would love nothing more than to rob you for all your worth, but an olive branch is being extended here.

"Olive branch?"

"I have a witness agreed to help the German Ministry of Magic in exchange for protection, Professor," the man said, pouring himself a glass of wine sitting near the bookshelf. Albus didn't react. "One of Grindelwald's old lovers."

"He's had many," Albus said simply.

The man sighed. "I have information and I have nowhere else to go. My department doesn't want to hear it. Some of them think this war has already been lost and it's better to stop while you're still rich and well off. You run the secret organization fighting against the newest Dark Lord, do you not Professor Dumbledore?" the man said, suddenly sitting up straighter.

Albus blinked once, the only sign of his surprise, but inclined his head slightly.

"I cannot reveal her name, but when she was still with the Dark Lord, she said an acquaintance of your, Professor , arrived and spun Grindelwald a colorful story about two of the most promising students Hogwarts has seen in centuries. Students who might even rival Grindelwald's power one day."

Albus closed his eyes. Not them.

_Not Minerva._

"Their names are Tom Riddle and-"

"Minerva McGonagall," Albus finished for her, his head sagging in defeat.

"Yes," Hestor Lincoln said, raising his glass slightly. "I saw them, the pair of them, at ol' Sluggy's party last weekend. She's a pretty little farie, isn't she? Powerful too. A fool could tell it from across the room. The boy too, I suppose, but he's dark, reminds me of the war, better to keep an eye on him I think."

Albus chose to ignore those comments. "How do I know these are legitimate concerns and you just aren't coming here to spy for the German government or for the Ministry?"

The man sputtered a laugh. "I have nothing left, Professor," he said quieter, "the job took my family, my wife. The war took my money, my sanity, my word. And now my job means nothing. Perhaps I need to something right for once."

Albus released the breath he was holding and nodded shortly. Even with a short look into the man's mind, he could tell that Lincoln was telling the truth, and that the Ministry didn't screen their secretaries for Occulmency very successfully.

"You are welcome in the castle until you can get back on your feet, Mister Lincoln," he offer and a clear wave of relief washed over the man's face.

Albus froze suddenly as something occurred to him. "Merlin!" he swore, although he was usually not prone to swearing. "It's Hogsmeade weekend."

"What does that mean?" Lincoln said, setting the glass on the counter.

"It means that the students are in Hogsmeade where they can easily be attacked. Mister Riddle and Miss McGonagall, too."

He had let his affection for Gellert cloud his thoughts. But he refused to lose Minerva, whom he loved, platonically or romantically, he was still unsure, to that _beast_. He would not make that mistake again. Hastening to the door, he shot the Italian witch a strict glare.

"You stay here. I have more I need to discuss with you." He knew they wouldn't be present when he returned, but Minerva was out there, needing his help.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall walked around the slightly chilling Hogsmeade. The snow had disappeared a few days earlier and left only nippy wind and rosy cheeks in its wake.

Alastor and Arabella were walking near them, Gryffindor Keeper Charlus Potter and Augusta Longbottom; everyone talking merrily about the upcoming Quidditch match. Minerva's eyes were on the newspaper in her hand as she and Tom walked slightly in front of the group.

_"Near the Chinese city of Changsha there is heavy fighting between Japanese Troops and Chinese Nationalist Troops going on,"_ Minerva read, a frown appearing between her thin, dark brows.

She heaved a sigh and felt faintly guilty for she didn't only think of the state of the world as a whole but also of her very own world, when she said: "It feels as if the entire world is breaking apart these days."

"We should consider ourselves lucky," Tom replied with a nod, his dark eyes focusing on the snow in front of him. His arm around her tightened slightly. Whether or not it was intentional, Minerva didn't know. "Hogwarts is much like a safe haven in that respect."

"All that bloodshed," Minerva whispered.

She didn't even see the landscape anymore.

Instead, her gaze wandered outside to the Scottish hills, where a cold winter blew, preparing them for the approaching winter. Her thoughts touched the Chinese and Japanese people, of whom so many were dying now, wandered to the people of Africa and Europe- how many died there?- and these thoughts nearly made tears come to her eyes. It seemed so senseless and needless; the works of madmen.

"You shouldn't cry for any of them," Tom advised coolly.

"Why not?" Minerva stared at him in outright indignation. "Every life lost is a tragedy."

"It's the human nature. They will never change. First World War was called the war to end all wars, wasn't it?" Tom looked darkly amused.

Minerva's lips licked her lips slightly, but didn't answer. "And what do we have now?" He laughed bitterly. "Homo homini lupus est. Man is a wolf to his fellow man. You have heard this, haven't you? Well, it's all true."

In spite of herself, Minerva chuckled cynically. "I should have known you are fond of Thomas Hobbes. It just seems like your kind of philosopher. Cynical, bitter, dark…"

"That's how you see me then?" Tom asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "I am flattered. Thanks. But it is true. I have seen humans do grisly things, Minerva … in London, during the Blitz."

Minerva was quiet and he suddenly turned to her, stopping in their tracks. The wind whipped around them, tussling Minerva's hair and scarf, making Tom's jacket flap.

"You know, Minerva, I don't think I've ever seen you cry."

Minerva took a ragged breath as his eyes found her. The dark met vibrant green. For a moment, no words surface her mind. When she broke the connection, she spoke.

"Perhaps my heart doesn't cry in tears," she said coolly before moving ahead and continuing their walk down the sloped road.

Neither one heard the others conversations around them as they were inside a world of only themselves. "Just look at them," Arabella said nodding towards Minerva and Tom had stopped just ahead of them. Minerva had turned and Tom followed her, each watching the other intently.

"They're good for each other, I think," Augusta said quietly for once. The others watched for a moment. Whatever Minerva said made Tom's eyes glint for a moment before returning to their normal haze.

"It's funny. Perhaps he will be the one to finally melt the Ice Queen," Charlus said, shaking his head, his curly black mess of hair moving in the wind.

"Shut up, Potter," Alastor growled lightly.

He closed his mouth, but looked smug. "Do you think they're going to get married?" Augusta asked, dreamily. "Just think how beautiful their children would be!"

Arabella squealed excitedly. "You're right, Gusta!"

Tom was waving Minerva's _Daily Prophet_ through the air and Minerva tried to take it from him. The dead leaves flew everywhere when Minerva charged at Tom again. He simply used his superior height and held the newspaper high in the sun-speckled light that filtered through the broad-leaved forest.

The more she jumped and yelled the merrier Tom waved the newspaper through the air with a superior smirk on his face. They both knew she could easily have retrieved it with magic, but both were having their own brand of fun with the chase.

"Give it back!" Minerva yelled. Tom was in the process of switching the newspaper from one hand to the other when he suddenly froze mid-motion.

"Ha!" She yelled in triumph when she got hold of the newspaper, but Tom stilled her with a hand on his arm. "Tom?"

"Turn around," Tom hissed, withdrawing his wand from his pocket in a fluid motion. He pushed her behind his back before she could see what was going on. When she understood what he meant to do she whipped her own wand out of her pocket and they stood back-to-back.

From both banks of the hollow-way they had been walking on black-clad people appeared. They were wearing masks and had all their wands out. Minerva counted thirteen of them. They came steadily closer, in a quite threatening manner. The dead autumn leaves crunched under Minerva's boots as she instinctively pressed her body tighter against Tom's back.

She stilled her breathing.

Arabella and Augusta screamed. Both Charlus and Alastor leapt in front of them near the edge of the clearing.

"Get back," Tom hissed, curse on her tongue. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"You must be Tom Riddle," one of the black-clad persons stated amusedly. It was a man, judging from his heavy-set stature and voice. His words were heavily-accented; he sounded as if he was maybe Russian. Another spoke up, this time a woman with a distinctly English accent. "And I suppose you, lovely, are Minerva McGonagall."

"How do you know that?" This was all bad news. How many dark wizards and their minions were out there at the moment? Minerva could only think of one…which meant that…oh dear. "Professor Alleti," she whispered.

"Smart girl," the English witch said in a mock-proud tone of voice. "He was indeed the one, who informed us about you two _prodigies_. Still didn't make it to the next day."

A few of the black-clad people snickered; apparently their defected first year Defense Professor hadn't been very popular among them.

"If you lovelies would follow us," the man, who had spoken first, said. "We are to take you to our Master."

"Never," Tom said quietly and venomously.

"I am sure you are aware of Mister Grindelwald's brilliance. Who are you to refuse, foolish child?" The English witch's voice was hysterical and angry.

"Your Master's brilliance?" Minerva laughed derisively. "He is so afraid of Dumbledore that he doesn't even dare set foot on this island! He's a coward!"

"Enough!" The witch bellowed sharply.

"You're the Leiden," Minerva said coldly, gripping her wand tightly. The wind threw her hair off her shoulders and her eyes glinted gold. "Grindelwald's followers."

"Very good, Miss McGonagall," a woman with another accent, more Indo-Chinese than anything else, praised, "very good. Though obviously you were smart enough to attract the attentions of ol' Albus Dumbledore," there was an outbreak of laughter at his name, "tell me, darling, is the old man as good in bed as everyone says?"

There was more hilarious laughter.

Minerva shifted her feet, but didn't speak. Tom's back leaked warmth into her body. Her eyes analyzed the battle field quietly. "Minerva?" Tom breathed, not taking his eyes off the man.

She shook her head quietly, curls moving. _No. Not yet._ "Alastor?" she raised her voice slightly. "Take everyone back to the castle please."

Tom moved closer to her, if that was possible. She didn't react. Alastor however was wavering and Charlus was watching him, ready to do whatever he decided.

"That's right Moody boy. Off you get. Little Miss McGonagall and I have business to attend to."

Alastor swallowed quickly and could feel Arabella shaking into his back. "It'll be fine Alastor," Tom's voice joined Minerva's finally, "go and find Dumbledore. Tell him what's happened."

With one hand on his wand, Alastor and Charlus Potter both began to back up the hill, the two girls behind them the entire time. Once out of sight, they broke into a run. Melted snow spattered on their shoes as Alastor ran. He quickly out distanced the other.

Both Arabella and Augusta fell in the snow sobbing. He paid no attention. Charlus was following him, unable to keep up with the urgency of Alastor's stride. He didn't care.

He almost passed Dumbledore who was running in the direction of them. "PROFESSOR!" Alastor screamed, "in the clearing!"

The auburn hair professor's urgency matched his own and when they arrived in the clearing, the only thing left was a stream of footprint in the mud.

Alastor swore and kicked at the nearest tree. His anger seemed to scream on its own accord.

Dumbledore knelt down in the ground and picked up a silken ribbon; the red ribbon that had been tied in Minerva's hair this morning before they left to go to Hogsmeade.

Moody watched his professor's face tighten in pain as he squeezed the ribbon in his palm and then rise to his feet, slightly unsteady.

"We need to alert the other professors. We'll start sending out search parties. They've apparated. Maybe we'll be able to track them."

In the blur of the day's rememberings later on in his life, Alastor thought he remembered seeing a single tear slide down his professor's crooked nose before he wrapped the red ribbon around his wrist and called for the others.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Tom pulled against the iron cuffs with agitation. He could feel Minerva motionless, tied behind him, and he began to dig his heels into the earth beneath him.

After moments of useless struggling, he sagged against the chains. "Minerva," he whispered as the others around them argued in German.

Minerva hummed in response, committing every word they were shouting to memory. "What are we going to do?"

He could feel her cold and dry hands behind his own as the fire near the forest flared, giving off frightful shadows on the tress around them.

"I'm working on it," she said calmly, though Tom could hear a thread of panic in her tone. Her breathing evened back out and later he thought he had imagined it.

The forest wasn't anything he recognized and the men arguing around the large tent was half lit. The trees looked tall and cast even taller shadows in the night. Other than the fire, there was no light. Ugly noises that he didn't want to identify howled in the distance.

"What are they saying?"

"They're debating whether or not to torture us before Grindelwald arrives," Minerva said matter-of-factly. Tom swallowed and felt sweat begin to trickle down his neck.

"I can see our wands. How are we going to get out of this alive?" There was no reply. "Damn it Minerva. Didn't your precious Albus Dumbledore teach you anything?"

"Patience Tom," she managed to hiss. "I cracked an ankle or two during apparition. When I cause the distraction you'll need to summon our wands. I need to be able to see them. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep it going wandlessly, but I'll fend them off as long as possible."

"You can do that?"

"Something Albus taught me," she managed to snap back.

Minerva focused on directing her energies. She could feel her ribs emitting all sorts of pains. She had scraped her legs while landing on apparition. Blood and dirt stained her white skirt and navy blouse.

Suddenly the conversations ceased and the English witch and the German man marched forward towards them. Tom swore under his breath.

Without their hoods on, both looked sharp and cruel in the firelight. The man had a large scar over his eye which was starchily yellow in the night. He wore thick leather pants and reeked of alcohol. The woman was no better with hacked off hair that lay at her shoulder which was blonde and dirty blue robes. Her almond shaped eyes were hazel and glinted maliciously in the flames.

"All right little lady," the man said leaning close into her face, "we're going to give you one chance before our Master comes. What do you know about the Ainneamhag?"

Minerva breath was caught in her throat. What did she know? No much really. She had helped Albus with some ciphers recently; looked at a few maps before the holiday, but nothing important to her. He had mentioned them in passing, where he spends some of his time away from school, meetings with the Ainneamhag.

She blinked once.

"Nothing and if I did I wouldn't tell you," her Gryffindor pride spoke loudly, clearly, confidently. She heard Tom intake a quick and shallow breath behind her. He knew as well as she did what was to come.

The woman hissed like an agitated cat and raised her wand. "Crucio!"

Minerva's mind exploded in pain. It was as if her limbs were on fire. She was surely dying. She felt her limbs betray her and jerk back against the chains holding her upright. For a moment, all noise faded. She could feel Tom shouting at her. She could feel the witch's exuberance behind the curse. She could feel her own heartbeat racing, trying to get away from the pain racking her body.

She couldn't escape it, but she could refuse to scream.

When the spell finally did release, she felt breathless as she sagged against the chains.

"Now now, Trasi, let's not get hasty. It would be a shame to damage her brilliant mind before we get a chance to use it. Master said to treat the guests with respect, _especially_ little Miss McGonagall," the man said leaning down and reaching down to caress her cheek with dirty fingers.

Minerva's glare intensified.

"_You do not touch me!" _

The man's hand jumped away with a sharp intake of breath. His burnt fingers shone ominously in the jumping flames.

"The girl has wandless magic. I'm impressed, little lady," he said through clenched teeth, "we could use people like you."

Minerva didn't answer, but began to engage her more complex Occlumency shields. If Grindelwald was really coming, then she would need all the protection she could get.

"I know where my loyalties lie."

"Told you we should just torture her, scare the other one into participating," the witch, Trasi growled advancing on Minerva with a newly found knife.

"Get away from her. You have no idea who you're messing with!" Tom snarled. Minerva could feel his anger radiating out from him. He pulled again the chain, scarping the iron together in an ugly grating sound.

"Well, well, well, the little snake has finally found his voice. Curious, you do actually care. What a pity; love is a weakness we'll have to stamp out of you."

Minerva spoke with a tone of finality. "Love always conquers fear."

The knife punctured the skin of her left arm, slicing down the skin with ease. The slash exposed a river of scarlet droplets on her ivory skin.

"Who's Dùil?" the witch growled.

Minerva tried to calm her ragged breathing. She bit the inside of her mouth to stop from crying out against the pain. "Come on now girl," with each word the knife dug deeper into her flesh.

"Dùil? Can't tell you."

Slash.

"Come now, Dumbledore must have told you something in your years together?"

"Of course," she said, her logic telling her to shut up and submit, "but then again it's completely over your head. You wouldn't understand," she said regally, looking down at them like she were the Muggle queen, Elisabeth.

Trasi howled and the knife was just about to come down before impaled its owner instead.

Minerva's eyes flashed gold.

A huge inferno shot out of the fire and enveloped the two attackers. The woman screamed as the stench of burning flesh seemed to waft out of the fire. Trees caught alight, their tops beginning to smoke.

Chaos overwhelmed them like title wave. Screams from the other black cloaked members seemed to bring Minerva to her senses.

"Accio wands!" Tom shouted and Minerva could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins like hot iron. Before Tom could even raise his wand, Minerva had stood up briskly, feeling the broken pieces of her ankle grind together like unfitting puzzle pieces. The chains sagged away from Tom's body, Minerva's own melted, burned through.

"What's the plan?" he shouted smoke began to fill up. He handed the fir wand over to its rightful owner. Minerva felt the usual warmth to her fingers as her own wand was placed back in her left palm.

"We stay alive," she said crossly, deflecting a hex from one of the nearby Leiden members. Her left hand was shaking from the amount of energy it was taking to control the inferno. The sounds of apparition could be heard from all around. Her body began to ache, without question she dropped her hand, letting the fire blaze on its own accord.

Her heart was beating out of control. "Stupefy!" She could be terrified. They were way out of their element. "Impedimenta!" She simply felt calm.

She rushed towards the tent, blood running down her arm, unnoticed. When fire was raging, no one but the guard she stunned noticed her escape towards the tent.

Part of it was smoking. The flimsy red tent had easily caught on fire and Minerva only got a glimpse of maps before the caught alight. In an attempt to save something, she grabbed a handful of parchments, shoving them into her sweater's pockets. It was all she could so before the entire tent collapsed.

She rolled out of the entrance just before she would have been swallowed by the flames and burned alive. She managed to disable another dark wizard. She scoured the battle field, now littered with bodies poking up like daisies in the grass.

It was then that she saw Tom fall, taking a Dark Curse to the chest.

"TOM!"

Minerva deflected another curse from a cloaked figure before rushing to him. The smoke was thickening more and more to the point she could barely make out shaping in the distance. It wrapped around her like a snake, suffocating the air from her lung. She coughed savagely, trying to rid the growing ash from her lungs.

Before she could reach Tom's hunched figure, someone tackled her. They rolled, Minerva's Quidditch training kicked in as she savagely fought off her attacker. She hadn't realized she had used magic until instead of a six foot man on top of her there was a tiny field mouse.

Albus would be proud.

Tom wasn't moving. His prostate form had crumpled in a puddle. His jacket had been partially charred off and there was a splotch of blood on his shirt, soaked with a dark liquid. She wasn't quite sure it was all blood or remnants of the curse.

"Tom, get up!" she cried out, trying to moving him into a sitting position. His body was heavier than she expected, much heavier than his long form would signify. There was no way she could carry him.

The fire grew.

"TOM! _Enervate!_"

He let out a guttural groan but his eyes remained firmly shut.

The heat was sweltering; surrounding them from all sides. There was no escape, but apparition and she couldn't bring an unconscious Tom along with her.

Merlin, they were going to die.

Seconds before the fire could jump any closer an idea struck her like the Hogwarts Express. She stood, ignored the blistering heat hitting her skin, and took a shaky breath, hacking again as her lungs filled with the ashy air.

"FAWKES!" she shouted into the crackling air. "FAWKES I NEED YOU!"

Over the sounds of death and the crackling of their impending departure from the world, Minerva heard a faint Phoenix cry.


	21. Chapter XX: Phoenix Song

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. From here on out we have quite a few words from Minerva's native language, Scottish Gaelic, which I find really enhances the story. Let me know what you think of the latest chapter. I've also posted a new little five shot series titled "Twinkling". Check it out and let me know what you think. Thanks and please review. Happy 20****th**** chapter everyone! **

_That Night_

Fawkes had always been proud of his feathers.

They were of a beautiful plumage; the darkest of red, the richest of oranges, and the highlights of yellow. Each as soft and well groomed as the other. Fawkes always made sure to take good care of his feathers.

He was always a good bird. Yes, always looking out for his Albus and those around him that he loved and right now, his Albus was very upset.

Albus was throwing books and boxes around his office and Fawkes watched his favorite wizard carefully from his perch. He seemed flustered Albus, as if time was of the essence. This was unlike him.

Fawkes watched as all the others that his Albus taught with filed into the room, even the frail looking man with the large, pointed hat and the grouchy blonde woman who always called him 'bird'. No, he did not like her one bit.

Why were they all here, disturbing his Albus while he was clearly looking for something important?

It was then that he felt the tug around his middle. A familiar thumping that had occurred a few times in his extensive life. Yes, something was wrong. He tilted his feather head sideways, concentrating, feeling that tugging.

Then he suddenly knew. It was Albus' Minerva; the pretty thing with the long hair and the green eyes; the one who made his Albus so happy when she came to visit.

Fawkes trilled loudly, catching everyone's attention.

His Albus turned halfway to face him. His blue eyes seemed to be in disarray, yet he turned towards Fawkes like a flower to the sun. Fawkes noticed carefully how the lines on his face seemed to more angled, older somehow.

Then Fawkes began to sing.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Albus turned to greet the other professors when Fawkes began to sing.

Albus had found Fawkes when he was a young man just after joining Nicholas in his apprenticeship. He and the Flamels had gone to the mountains to find some rare roots for a potion that both Nicholas and Perenelle were working on.

The air was snowy as was ever surface of the mountain. The wind was snappy and the ground packed with white. He had gone up the face of the mountain higher up than his mentors.

There he had heard the soft trilling of a bird. It had been Fawkes. The poor underfed little bird had been abandoned by his family. Left all alone in the wilderness hadn't been kind to the baby.

Albus immediately wrapped his up in his jacket and towed his back to Perenelle who was able to feed him. Nicholas was shocked, phoenixes were rare, and it was even rarer for them to allow humans anywhere close to them.

They were faithful birds.

The little bird had become attached to Albus and rarely left his side after that. People made the mistake that Albus was the bird's master, yet it was a mutual choice for the bird to remain with Albus after so long.

The notes swelled and seemingly filled the room.

It was a song that Albus recognized. _It was Minerva's song. _ The melody was soft and powerful. It's tones haunting, but hopeful and it rose and fell like title waves in an ocean.

The others, too, seemed to be enraptured by the song. He had heard it from a siren many years ago playing near a lake outside his family's home in Godric's Hallow. The creature had only sang it once and then disappeared without a goodbye at all under the waves of the nearby loch. The then young Albus searched for the rest of the summer trying to discover where the creature was, but never found her again.

Years later when an eleven year old Minerva came to Hogwarts, Fawkes sang the same song again and without a shadow of a doubt, Albus knew that that little girl was special.

"Will you protect her for me, old friend?"

Fawkes trilled again in response and with a crack of fire, he was gone to find her.

Dumbledore turned towards the others.

"Jason and I will take Hogsmeade. Young Mister Hagrid and Ogg will cover the grounds. Catherine, Horace, if you will stay here; Fawkes may teleport them directly here depending on their conditions. Everyone else spread out. We'll need to keep eyes on the rest of the exit, entrances, and on all the common rooms."

They had to find them.

_Losing her wasn't an option._


	22. Chapter XXI: Of Master and Apprentice

**A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. From here on out we have quite a few words from Minerva's native language, Scottish Gaelic, which I find really enhances the story. This is a chapter I really love, seeing all the other perspectives and point of views. I've also posted a new little five shot series titled "Twinkling". Check it out and let me know what you think. Thanks and please review.**

_That Morning_

Catherine Naye and Horace Slughorn paced in the infirmary. The strict Defense Professor was hiding her nerves well. Her bun was falling out of normal perfected form.

"Catherine, they will be fine," Horace prompted from his chair. His hands were wrapping and unwrapping an empty bag of crystalized pineapples.

"Have you known her long, Miss McGonagall?"

"Of course, I have been her Potions professor for the past seven years," he said not unkindly.

She gave a small smirk.

"You two do not seem like you get along though," she said, still moving, watching him carefully. The aging Potions Master sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"When Miss McGonagall came to Hogwarts, every professor present that year could tell that there was something about her … something rare, something powerful. It was quiet at first, bubbling under the surface of her abilities. We all waited patiently for her to flaunt her abilities; something that most young witches and wizards with do when they have that kind of power over their classmates, but nothing ever happened. It was there, of course, there was no mistaking it, but she never showed off, not once.

"A few of us may have gotten a bit anxious and when we normally have a talent young wizard, we assess just where and how far advanced they are—to either push them along a little farther or provide supplement material—but the teacher that examines them is the teacher where they hold specialty in, but Miss McGonagall had no weak area."

Professor Naye raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Oh yes, I've never seen such a talent little thing. Then again, I wasn't here when Albus Dumbledore attended school to have a suitable comparison, but … we were wasting time, not getting her accessed so we decided that Albus was the one to do, she had taken an instant liking to her Head of House and she adored, simply adored, Transfiguration. She made it to the N.E.W.T. standards before she ran into a spell she couldn't do on the first time."

"That's remarkable; why wouldn't she say something if she was unchallenged in the coursework?" Naye asked, leaning forward slightly.

A darker shadow passed over Slughorn's face. "Miss McGonagall was slightly skittish upon arriving at Hogwarts, sometimes those children who were _discouraged_ to use magic before they come to Hogwarts are hesitant to accept such free will; they don't know how to handle their freedom. Even so, Miss McGonagall is not prideful or vain. She views showing off as being callous to those who struggle and thus only does it in private.

"I may have been … unkind … when trying to recruit Miss McGonagall for the Slug Club. She ran as far away as she could get; right into Dumbledore's arms. It's a shame, she would have been one of my crown jewels…"

Catherine opened her mouth but was cut off by a loud crack. Naye screamed as her two students tumbled into the room followed by a large phoenix.

Slughorn was immediately on his feet and rushed over to the two students as Minerva coughed violently, trying to breathe. Naye grabbed her with shaky hands and eased her into a sitting position.

It was scary how composed she seemed to be; bloody and pale, and yet still in control and beautiful.

"Miss McGo—_Minerva_, how… Merlin's beard," the Defense professor tried to form a sentence as Madam Lenus burst in the room with Poppy Pomfrey at her side. The young witch screamed, eyes wide, at her bloody friend and her unconscious peer.

"Get him on to a bed. Now," Lenus directed with a finality in her voice. Slughorn didn't hesitate to levitate him. Riddle groaned, but didn't stir as he was set on the soft surface. She swarmed him, diagnostic spells flying every which way.

Minerva struggled to stand, only to lose her usual McGonagall grace and tumble back down to the ground. It was when that Naye realized just how much blood covered her student's body. Her forearm had been brutally slashed and was still bleeding at an alarmingly horrific rate. Her knees were bloody and black as were her hands. Her once white blouse and blue sweater were stained scarlet in splotches. Her hair had fallen out of whatever elaborate creation she had braided into this morning. The pieces circled her face dully.

What seemed to make Naye the most nervous was the wild look in her student's normally clear green eyes.

Naye attempted to put a comforting hand on her student, when Minerva jerked away from her hands. The windows shattered with a thundering _crack_! Glass rained down like droplets of rain from the clouds.

Naye jerked back.

"Leave her be," Lenus snapped harshly as Minerva moved away towards the window. "Tell me what happened, Miss McGonagall."

Minerva blinked rapidly, her eyes blazing like a fire. "I…the Leiden… it-it was an accident."

"THE LEIDEN!"

There was a crackle of wild energy in the room that flooded from the small girl. Slughorn jerked back as the room grew hot with the power pulsing from her. It was like nothing Naye had experienced before, raw and exotic.

"Catherine, stop it!" Lenus shouted severely. "You're making it worse. Leave her alone."

"Easy, Mina," Poppy said, recovering her wits, and reaching a hand towards her friend. Her face was the picture of calm. The Medi-witch in training took a deep breath, clearing her mind before, "Mina, what happened to Tom?"

Her voice seemed to calm the girl. "I … there was a spell … purple light … Dark magic … I didn't mean to—it was an accident. I couldn't control it anymore. _It just happened._"

Catherine shared a concerned look with Horace, who was hovering over Riddle's unconscious body. The doors flew open with a loud _bang_ and Albus Dumbledore swept in.

Minerva flipped around.

"Albus!"

The girl bounded towards the Transfiguration professor. There was clear relief on her face. He didn't hesitate to take her into his arms, picking her up off the ground for a few seconds.

The words they exchanged weren't heard, but they had a great effect on the clearly upset girl. Her body began to relax, still being held by Dumbledore's strong arm and the crackling of wild magic seemed to die down.

When she moved back to face the professor, Dumbledore reached out and brushed a calloused thumb over the girl's porcelain cheek.

Dozens of school rules against this kind of teacher-student conduct flew through Naye's brain. All of them froze when she saw the look on her student's face.

The fire in her eyes had been reduced to their normal captivating flames. She would ponder on it later, she placated herself, but years later she found that she never forgot the look on Miss McGonagall's face.

Minerva broke apart from her mentor and her bloody arm drew a hand into her sweater pocket. Hanging from a tall was what looked to be a dead rat.

"It was an accident."

"Miss McGonagall, what is that?"

Minerva didn't answer, but turned her face up towards Dumbledore. He unsheathed his wand and held it at the ready. Slughorn soon joined Naye's uncertainty.

"Albus, just what are you two doing?"

Minerva let go to of the rat and before it could hit the cold ground, Dumbledore flicked his wand. A man replaced the rodent.

Poppy jumped back in fright. The man was partly charred. Burns along the length of his leg kept him from standing, but not from letting out a loud, feral growl and lunging towards Minerva. Albus wrapped one arm around Minerva's waist protectively, hiding her from view.

Naye was about to go for her wand when a loud bang from Dumbledore's wand left the man stunned on the ground. With another casual flick, he was tied against a wooden chair with thick, tight ropes.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

The occupants of the room turned to find the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw House's ghost hovering in the doorway. "My lady? Is something wrong?"

"No all the children are in their House, tucked in tight, but I have a message from Headmaster Dippet. He says that the Minster is here and she wants to speak with you all as soon as possible. She heard about the attack and is waiting in the office. She says she wants to talk to Miss McGonagall."

"Absolutely not," Madam Lenus said brusquely, tucking the covers tighter around Riddle's body, "Miss McGonagall is in no shape to even be standing, let alone talking to Minister Orpington for an hour."

Albus looked regretfully at his apprentice and held out a calloused palm. Without hesitation, she took it and for a moment the two were engulfed in a hazy golden light.

When it died, McGonagall was no longer covered in blood and the flow of blood from her stab wound had ceased. Lenus huffed. "I want to see her back here as soon as you're done," Lenus said grumpily, "your fancy wandwork will have to hold until then. No more heroics tonight Miss McGonagall."

"Yes Madam Lenus." Minerva smirked slightly and found that a wave of exhaust was assaulting her now.

"We'll head up," Naye said quietly with a glance at Slughorn.

Dumbledore nodded once. "Miss McGonagall and I will come through the Floo. It'll be safer that way."

She nodded once and both she and Slughorn exited quietly.

"Hello Minerva," the ghost said carefully, drawing a little closer to the girl. Minerva looked up from Tom's unconscious body towards the gray and white, hazy ghost.

"Hello Helena. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Still dead of course, but fine. They all said you were dead, the others, when they heard it was the Leiden, but I knew you weren't.

"Thank you for your confidence."

"Minerva, we should go," Albus said quietly, putting a hand on the small of her back to gently guide her towards the fireplace. "Thank you for your help, my lady."

"Of course," the ghost said with a small curtsey as she exited the doors that were closed. For a moment no one spoke, but Albus gently tugged at her elbow and the two moved towards the fireplace.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

Evangeline Orpington sat impatiently in one of the high backed chairs in the Headmaster's Office. Her silver bangles jingled as her hands tapped petulantly.

"And the girl just had them teleported via phoenix back to Hogwarts?" the blonde woman snapped, brushing unnoticeable dust off her blue and white pinstriped jacket and navy dress, not the normal dress for a magical minister, but one she found made her feel professional and in charge.

"That's what it looks like Madam Minister," Armando Dippet said carefully, waiting nervously for Albus to appear with his apprentice.

In the lights of dawn peeking from the windows casts shadows over his face, making his body seemed more frail, more ashen, and sickly. The years were beginning to take its toll. The last few years of turbulence had only made it worse.

"One of the Hit Squads found the sight an hour ago. Fourteen dead, all seemingly burned alive."

Naye cast a glance at her two other colleagues. "The fire was still burning and it took seventeen highly trained Aurors to extinguish it. I don't know where you all are hiding Minerva McGonagall, but I demand to speak with her this instance."

"There's no need for a malicious tone, Minister, we've arrived," Albus Dumbledore called cheerily as he and Minerva exited the fireplace.

Orpington immediately stared at the girl, marking her injured limbs and flawless face, her emerald eyes and her obsidian curls. The little creature stared back without a moment of fear or hesitation.

Then she laughed. Loudly.

The girl looked slightly taken back and looked up at Dumbledore. He offered her a comforting smile. "What's this about Minister? I'm sure you have better things to do than interrogate my students."

"Interrogate? I think not," she snapped moving to her feet with a fluid motion. "I'm not here to meddle at all actually, Dumbledore, I just wanted to thank Miss McGonagall."

Dumbledore glared ever so slightly.

"For what exactly?"

"Fourteen dead Leiden officers are less paperwork for me to file versus captured ones," she said smoothly, watching the Head Girl for a reaction.

She received none, but wasn't put off. Her face remained impassive and steely.

"If Miss McGonagall wouldn't mind I would like to see the memory of the attack before I head back to the Ministry, just so we have a-_ah_-clear account of what happened." She gestured to the Pensieve next to the Headmaster's desk.

The girl hesitated.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Minerva," Dumbledore said quickly, casting an eye over all in the office. The girl shook her head, curling bouncing up and down slightly around her face.

"No. I don't mind," she said calmly, taking the offered wand from the Minister.

The wispy memory strand of the memory floated in the Pensieve as all in the office stepped inside. Albus hesitated when Minerva sat down in a spare chair instead of following. "I think I'll wait here," she said before he could ask, "once was enough for me."

"As you wish, my dear."

He inclined his head before stepping after Horace Slughorn and disappearing into the waters.

"She doesn't look like a Gryffindor Head Girl to me," a voice called from the wall.

"Hush Phineas!" came a more feminine voice.

"And what, pray tell, does a Gryffindor look like Professor Black?" Minerva snapped, turning around in the chair to look at the portrait behind Dippet's desk.

The older witch cackled. "Oh yes, I like her."

The portrait of Black sniffled and sighed. "Nothing, but the fact you don't seem very…hm how to put it…_scary_ to me, for someone who just killed fourteen people."

"I don't have to look scary to be able to kill people, _sir_."

The white headed witch, Headmistress Dilys Derwent laughed loudly from above Black. "No wonder you and Albus get along so well, Miss McGonagall. How are you, dear?" she asked motherly.

"I'm quite well, thank you Headmistress Derwent," she said elegantly with a small smile in reply. The only thing she wanted to do at the moment was sit and talk to Albus in his warm and quiet office with the fireplace lit and Fawkes singing soothingly in the background.

The pain of her bruised ribs was beginning to flare back up and the fatigue that was beginning to suck the remaining energy from her, and a there was a headache pounding faintly in the back of her skull.

It seemed hours before they all climbed back out of the Pensieve with equal looks of horror and shock on their features. Even the Minister seemed to be shaken as she sat down in her previously occupied chair.

For a moment no one spoke.

Albus had walked around Minerva's chair, his hands resting on her slender shoulders comfortingly. Slughorn mopped at his forehead with a Slytherin green handkerchief as his eyes darted everywhere around the room. Professor Naye seemed shaken, staring out the window with far away eyes.

Finally Professor Dippet spoke. "Albus, I do believe you should escort Miss McGonagall down to Madam Lenus. She'll no doubt want to observe her overnight."

Dumbledore nodded shortly and waited for Minerva to rise from her chair before leading her out of the office without another word.

The Minister, who seemingly had run out of words, left promptly after. When she was gone, Dippet rose from his chair and poured the two remaining professors a drink.

"I thought if the man was going to insult Albus one more time that Miss McGonagall was going to gut him like a fish," Naye said quietly, thanking Dippet with a nod for the drink.

"Their relationship is complicated, I think."

Naye wasn't quite sure she agreed with the Potions Master, but looking back on Albus' face when he had first laid eyes on Miss McGonagall told another side to that story all together. In that moment, she was sure that he would scour the entire world and then some for his apprentice.

"The relationship between master and apprentice is the rarest of sorts and with two private people like Albus and Miss McGonagall, you never know…" Armando said slowly "…there is always that love, that_ fondness_ and the trust between a master and an apprentice. A kind love certainly, working so closely it's hard to not develop such a bond. It's fascinating to watch."

"She would have died out there, defending him like that. She was no more afraid of him than a lion on a hunt," Naye said, rubbing her face with her free hand.

"I will never understand Gryffindor foolish stoicism," interjected Phineas Black from the wall. "Always willing to die for other willy-nilly."

"Thank you Phineas," Dippet said shortly.

"What of Mister Riddle?"

"Madam Lenus said that there was no last damage done and he should be better within the next few week," Naye said quickly, swirling her drink with strong hands.

"Good, good," Dippet said with a sigh. "This war is going far beyond all expectation, now our children are being dragged into it."

"War is the cruelest of all human sufferings," Naye remarked, quiet.

"I'll drink to that," Slughorn said, raising his glass.

_*Hogwarts 1954*_

"I'm not sure I'm entirely convinced of her … helpfulness in the war," Minerva continued as they turned to climb the Grand Staircase.

With each step she took, her ankles began to feel like they were being stabbed with red hot needles. She tried to ignore it and push on, but she immediately regretted it. The pain that shot up through her through her legs would have caused her to fall back down the staircase if Albus hadn't wrapped his arms around her waist.

Despite the agony she was in, her stomach had definitely fluttered.

"Minerva, what's wrong?"

"I, ahh-" she hissed through her teeth as she tried to find a more comfortable standing position. "I may have fractured one or both of my ankles when I landed in the clearing."

"Apparition is always a dangerous thing…" the wizard said softly, his fingertips softly examining the ankle, "Cat or no, I'm surprised you did not break anything else."

Albus frowned, but then completely surprised her by lifting her off the ground, tucking her legs over his left arm, and holding her close to his chest.

"Do you think you can make it to the Hospital Wing now?"

Minerva's heart was beating so fast that she had to blink twice before she understood what he said, and she almost moaned at the thought of what Lenus would do when she saw Minerva being carried in.

"I think we shall both be cursed to hear Madam Lenus berate us endlessly for a year! Couldn't you kindly ask Fawkes to heal me instead and spare us the agony of another lecture?"

Albus chuckled, a light reigniting in his blue irises.

"A very tempting thought," he replied as he began to carry her up the flight of stairs.

"I was being serious, Albus," she said a little softer.

His sapphire eyes twinkled.

"As was I, my dear. Sadly, he has left for his last flight before he must retire. His Burning Day will be upon him soon and I'm afraid all this excitement has tired him out."

"Well I wish him luck and a rather large thank you."

"I'm sure he would appreciate it. He is always a bit nervous to burst into flames. I have not quite figured out why. You'll have to see the next one. It really is such a beautiful event."

Laying there in his arms, Minerva couldn't keep herself from studying his crooked nose, the way his mouth moved, even his hair.

"I would like that very much," she said quietly. After another moment studying her esteemed professor, she remembered what she had originally planned to ask him before the pain had knocked her over.

"Do you think that Orpington will last the rest of you war or will the Ministry go into lockdown on the military and Auroring watch?"

Albus pursed in his lips.

"Grindelwald is getting stronger by the hour. If things do not improve soon, then stronger measures will be taken," he paused for a moment before continuing, "as for Orpington, I don't like assuming anything, and even if one knows the truth, sometimes it can be deceptive."

The moment they walked through the door, both of them cringed upon hearing Jane's gasp.

"Merlin's beard, child! I leave you alone for thirty minutes and you've already managed to hurt yourself! And it's about time you got her here, Albus," Jane muttered fiercely as Professor Dumbledore set her down on the bed next to Tom. "This whole blasted event is why people refuse to leave their houses anymore. An attack on children in the middle of Hogsmeade! Now tell me what happened while I was gone?"

"It's nothing new, Madam Lenus," Minerva tried to assure. "It's my ankles. I probably injured them when I landed from the Side-Long Apparation, but the pain wasn't of much concern until I began walking here."

"Yes, adrenaline does that," the matron quipped as she cast a diagnostic spell and muttered something about Gryffindor brashness.

Minerva glanced at the bed beside her.

"How is Tom?"

"Still unconscious, as you can see," Jane's voice stayed sharp as steel as her eyes flicked back and forth, reading the words and symbols that the spell conjured. "Nothing too bad it seems, though, as far as spell damage goes."

"Will he be all right, Jane?"

"It's nothing that magic and potions won't fix in a few weeks or so, Professor." The matron pocketed her wand and glanced at Minerva with an expression that made her uncomfortable. She was definitely in for a lecture now. "You may leave, Professor Dumbledore. I am sure there is much that needs to be done."

"She's had a rough night, Jane, try not to be too harsh."

Jane's grey eyes flashed him a glare, one that he held for a moment before giving Minerva's hand a squeeze and moving towards the door before her sleep filled voice caught him.

"Albus?"

"Minerva?"

"We need to talk?"

He had to smile at her insistence and curiosity.

"We will," he promised sincerely, turning halfway to look at her as the potion the nurse had given her began to take effect and sleepiness began to overtake her eyes. "But first you need to rest, dear heart. We'll talk later."

At the 'click' of the door closing behind him, the matron _Summoned_ two potions and set one on the table, while fixing the blankets around Minerva and tipping half of the other down her throat, careful to not jostle the almost sleeping girl.

"Just what are we going to do with you, Miss McGonagall?" she said quietly as the sleeping draught of the second potion began to take hold and the fatigue and sleepiness returned to the Head Girl's eyes.

The Matron sighed and eased her down on the bed next to Tom Riddle. She was in for a long night, but with children like Riddle and McGonagall, there was always excitement afoot.


End file.
